No Rhyme or Reason
by steelcrash
Summary: Logic dictates a reason for everything. Sometimes things happen with no valid explanation. Prowl is going to learn this the hard way.
1. Chapter 1

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"Fractious" was an apt description for the new arrivals to Autobot City. Not all of them, but it applied in varying degrees to the three youngest members of Ultra Magnus' unit. However, Prowl thought, it perfectly described the triple changer, Springer, and his best friend Hot Rod and in certain situations, the femme, Arcee. Blurr was respectful but could carry on a one-sided conversation better than Bluestreak and Sandstorm kept his head down and did his job. Kup was in a class by himself (always had been) and Ultra Magnus. . .Prowl had yet to find evidence of his character flaws.

The Autobot second in command was certain he was going to become well acquainted in the coming days with Springer and Hot Rod. They'd already been in his office seven times for disciplinary action in the month since their arrival to Earth. No doubt they were capable warriors, but they still had a lot to learn. And he was going to have to get creative with his current round of discipline. The two fraggers were late for yet another discussion about their juvenile behavior, stemming from their mutual attraction to Arcee. Most of the base was falling at her feet, but Prowl was sure her affections were centered elsewhere. He'd calculated the odds, and knew he was right. The mech just wasn't aware of it yet.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door chime. He settled his gaze on the two mechs who entered. Well, entered wasn't the right word. Hot Rod dragged Springer inside.

"Glad you two finally showed up," Prowl said. "Do I need to remind you of what you've done this time, or can we just skip to the part where I try once again to correct your behavior?"

Springer frowned, bit back a retort, while Hot Rod fought a grin.

"I don't know why Ultra Magnus let you get away with such antics, but here on Earth, under the command of Optimus Prime, such behavior is not allowed," Prowl said.

"Wanna bet?" Springer said. "I saw the twins walking out of the armory this morning with grenades and paint markers. Just walking. Not sneaking. So yeah, I'd say the Autobots here are the epitome of law-abiding."

Prowl ignored the comment.

"I think more drastic measures are called for this time," he said. "As of right now, your current duty assignments are suspended until further notice. Since the two of you seem to accomplish nothing when you're together, I'm separating you. Starting tomorrow, Springer, you will be assigned to the night shift and Hot Rod, day shift. Report to me for your duty assignments. Dismissed."

Once outside, Springer couldn't hold back anymore.

"Crazy slagger. All rules and regulations and protocol. . .the humans have a word to describe someone like him--'prick.' He's probably got a stick jammed so far up his aft it'll never see the light of day again," Springer said.

"Yeah, but he's the second in command," Hot Rod said.

"If you say something about respect, I'll punch you," Springer said. "And what's with you lately, anyway, you've actually been trying to follow orders. That's a change. Any reason why?"

"No," Hot Rod said, suddenly nonchalant.

Springer's optics narrowed.

"C'mon Rodi, you holding out on me?"

"Holding out what? I'm just trying to do my job," Hot Rod said.

"Think that'll impress Arcee?" Springer said.

"Maybe," Hot Rod said. "But now that we're here, in the middle of the fighting again, there's more to think about than just ourselves."

Springer crossed his arms, annoyed now.

"I get it--you're buying into Prime's bullshit, right? Well if he's do damn great, why hasn't he ended the war yet? He's in charge. Maybe now that we're here, and Magnus holds some influence, things might get done for a change," Springer said.

"Whatever," Hot Rod said. "C'mon. Prowl didn't say anything about finishing our duty shifts today. Race you to the top of Lookout Mountain."

"You're on," Springer grinned, transforming, following his friend.


	2. Chapter 2

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Prowl was quite pleased with the results of his latest disciplinary actions toward Springer and Hot Rod. Two weeks on separate duty shifts worked. Neither had been in his office for punishment together or apart, although he had broken up one scuffle between the two over the female Autobot, Arcee, and Jazz had pulled Springer off the twins on three separate occasions for making a pass at or off-handed remark about the femme.

The duty assignment worked so well he decided to keep the arrangement in place another two weeks, hoping it would further settle the two mechs. All he needed now was Optimus Prime's signature on the duty roster and he'd be set. The second in command walked into his commander's office, finding him frowning at a data pad. He didn't look up when his second entered.

"When you don't notice when someone's in your presence, I think it's time for a break," Prowl said.

"Eh?" Optimus looked up. "Oh, Prowl, I'm sorry. What can I do for you?"

"Approve the duty roster for the next two weeks," he said, handing his own data pad to Prime. He quickly scrolled through the names and assignments.

"They're fine," Optimus said. "Although I do notice you've kept Springer on nights and Hot Rod on days. Any reason?"

"The arrangement has kept them from any disciplinary action," Prowl said.

"That does merit consideration, although Kup and Ultra Magnus have assured me they usually work quite well together," Optimus said.

"That was before the recent addition of Arcee to Ultra Magnus' team before their arrival here to Earth," Prowl said.

"It is unfortunate," Optimus said. "Hot Rod and Springer are best friends. It's a shame they've let something come between them."

"Yes, but have you noticed Arcee's interest in them has waned recently?" Prowl asked.

"You've noticed, too?" Optimus said.

"Yes," Prowl said. "Has Ultra Magnus any knowledge of her interest in him?"

"Unlikely," Optimus said. "He's bonded to his duties, much like someone else here in my office with me."

Prowl ignored the hint. He knew he needed to get a life.

"I've calculated the odds and Ultra Magnus stands no chance of escape," he said.

"You make it sound like it's a life-threatening situation," Optimus said.

"Isn't it?" Prowl countered.

"Life-altering, but not life-threatening," Optimus said.

"That's not what you said after your last disagreement with a certain femme," Prowl said.

"We're not talking about my personal life, Prowl," Optimus said.

"No, but it's safe and appropriate to talk about others?"

"My friend, how long has it been since you've had a personal life? You're not the only one bonded to your job," Optimus said.

Prowl groaned. "Don't remind me," he said. "Kup keeps reminding me I need to 'loosen up.' Speaking of Kup, that reminds me. I think he's gone senile in his advanced age."

Optimus raised an optic ridge. "Why?"

"He keeps telling me I need to lay off Springer and Hot Rod because they're just blowing off steam and maybe I should join them," Prowl said. "And he also seems to have an elevated opinion regarding Hot Rod's potential. So far I have only seen the potential for mischief."

"Maybe you should join them," Optimus said. "Couldn't hurt, could it?"

"Partaking of such activities with subordinates undermines one's authority," Prowl said.

"Or it forges familiarity and camaraderie," Optimus said. "And regarding Hot Rod's potential--I believe he does have a promising future, possibly as an officer. He's working hard, trying to learn and fit in, as is the rest of Magnus' team."

"You're entitled to your opinion," Prowl said.

"True, but I think you do need to blow off some steam," Optimus said.

-----

When Optimus Prime asked for a favor earlier that evening, Ultra Magnus didn't say no. Taking over the watch in ops to give his friend a rare night off was something the other Autobot did not mind. Optimus worked too hard, rarely taking time for himself, so he'd granted the request. Except the scene before him was one he could not anticipate.

The rec room was mostly intact, with the exception of a few turned over chairs at a couple of tables. Empty high grade cubes scattered about was a testament to what had gone on, as were the unmoving bodies of several high-ranking officers from the Autobot forces. Ratchet was slouched in a chair, mouth hanging open, energon trailing from the corner of his mouth, an extremely undignified condition for the CMO. Ironhide was curled on top of one table, hugging a half-empty container of energon. Kup was in his vehicular form, parked over in one corner. Also present were Prowl and Optimus Prime. Prowl was sprawled on his back on one table and Prime was recharging face down on the floor.

Ultra Magnus sighed. The things he did for his friend. . .

-----

The next morning, Springer was almost gleeful. The grin on his face made Hot Rod suspicious the instant he saw his friend coming his way.

"You're still up?" Hot Rod said as Springer fell into step beside him.

"Yeah, had something to tell you," Springer said. "But not here. Meet me at the observation platform on the mountain when you can sneak away."

Hot Rod stopped. "Kup and I are training with Red Alert today on the city's security protocols," he said. "So I can't sneak away. Red Alert has so much to keep him occupied at the Ark with his promotion that Kup said Ultra Magnus has recommended him to take over as the city's security director. I keep out of trouble and Kup might ask for me to work with him, so no sneaking off."

Springer stared.

"Where is the real Hot Rod and what have you done with him?"

Hot Rod grinned. "Still here," he said. "Look, let me see what I can do, and I'll try and meet you sometime this afternoon. If not, I'll ask if I can leave before your shift starts, OK?"

"That works," Springer said.

-----

Eight hours later and Hot Rod finally commed, telling him he'd meet him in 15 minutes. Springer was already waiting, watched as his friend pulled up, transformed.

"OK, what have you done now?" Hot Rod asked.

"I only have blackmail material involving a certain tight-afted second in command," Springer said.

"What?"

"Yup," Springer said, full of himself. "Got holos of him last night passed out drunk in the rec room."

"And how do you propose to use them?"

"I haven't figured that out yet, but I'll think of something," Springer said, grinning.

-----


	3. Chapter 3

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Arcee sat in the rec room, watching the mechs around her talk. Situated in the corner, the female Autobot had a clear view of the entire place. It also meant she could be seen from the entrance, hopefully enticing a certain mech over to her table. He'd show. Eventually, she hoped. If not, she would go looking for _him_. As yet, he was unaware of her intentions, but if she had her way, it wouldn't stay that way for long.

She was sure Ultra Magnus would resist the idea at first, but he'd come around. She would see to it. As she was no longer under his direct command, Arcee figured it gave her the freedom to pursue him. And unlike a couple of immature aft heads she associated with, Ultra Magnus was a real mech. Springer and Hot Rod had potential, but she knew them both to well to see either of them as a potential mate.

Arcee knew she could probably have her pick out of anyone from the Ark crew if she tried, besides the few who weren't already involved with or belonging to the female Autobots in Elita-1's unit. Like Optimus Prime, or Ironhide. Obviously Ironhide was bonded to Chromia, but Optimus Prime. . .Primus. What femme wouldn't throw herself at Optimus Prime, if she could? Not her. He was handsome, kind, compassionate, brave. . .she could go on. But so was Ultra Magnus. Half the femmes in Elita-1's unit fawned over Ultra Magnus, but he was so unpretentious he didn't notice. It broke her spark to see such a handsome, humble mech so unaware of the affect he had on others, so she meant to show him. Her battle plans drawn up, Arcee knew Ultra Magnus would not know what was about to hit.

-----

Optimus Prime was _not_ happy. Dealing with a couple of juvenile delinquents didn't rank high on his to-do list for the day. Their actions warranted an appearance before their Prime. Springer and Hot Rod had broken into Prowl's office, used his terminal to upload holos of the drunken second in command to Autobot City's communications network and distributed them to the local human news outlets. The two were lucky they were still online, considering Prowl's current emotional state. They will wish they weren't when I'm done with them, Prime thought. It was a shame, too. The two young Autobots were creative and showed initiative with their prank.

However, they exhibited a serious disrespect for authority and a lack of discipline. Such a description ran contrary to the information he'd received from both Kup and Ultra Magnus regarding this pair of Autobots. And it was time to let them know.

"I don't know what you two were hoping to accomplish with this exercise in stupidity," Prime said. "Besides embarrass yourselves."

"It was Prowl I was hoping to embarrass," Springer muttered.

"What was that? Did I give you permission to speak?" Prime said, standing.

Springer frowned, but he said nothing.

"Do you know how many times you two have come up for disciplinary action since you arrived on this planet? Officially, this makes eight times in one month," Prime said. "Unofficially, you two together have received 11 verbal reprimands for insubordination or pulling pranks. Separately, you Springer, have had seven, while Hot Rod has nine. Thirty-five incidents in six weeks. That is not acceptable."

Prime glanced between the two. Both stood at attention, but seemed to regard their situation without any seriousness, given their expressions. Springer's lips were quirked up in a cocky smile while Hot Rod radiated defiance.

"You two obviously think highly of your abilities, which, I admit, are impressive," Prime said. "I know the assignments you've both put in for, and by continuing to exhibit this kind of behavior, neither of you will receive them. You show great potential, yet. . .I must say I'm greatly disappointed. . .Ultra Magnus trusts you both, however, your actions of late suggest you cannot be trusted with the duties you've been assigned. If you're going to be anything to the Autobot cause, you're going to have to earn _my_ trust. For now, I'm going to let you go. Think about that. I'll decide your punishment by tomorrow. Now get out."

The two left his office as quickly as courtesy allowed. Not that Prime could blame them. He was angry, and as the humans said, his nerves were. . .frayed. Too many demands on his time and to have two jackass sparklings to deal with on top of the constant requests from the humans, the war, and his strained relationship with Elita-1 were taking their toll. He needed a break--a few hours, a day. But he wasn't likely to get it, but he could try.


	4. Chapter 4

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod knew Springer was up to something, but what, he did not know. He'd declined the triple changer's latest foray into mischief, choosing to enjoy his last few hours of freedom before Optimus Prime meted out their punishment. A couple of speeding tickets were the worst trouble he'd gotten into all night. Now, he was on his way across the city to have yet another disciplinary meeting with their Prime, and there was no way in hell he was going to be late.

Except as Hot Rod rounded the corner to Prime's office, he felt someone grab his arm. Arcee.

:Just go along if you don't want Springer to get himself killed:

He suddenly found himself shoved up against the wall by Arcee as she kissed him. And who was he to argue when his friend's very life depended on his actions? His hands found her curves and oh Primus. . .the sound of footsteps and he broke away from the femme as if she was Megatron himself, finding the Autobot leader and his second in command staring at them both.

Ultra Magnus' expression was unreadable; Optimus Prime raised an optic ridge in question, arms crossed.

"Hot Rod, my office now," Optimus said. "Ultra Magnus, I believe you know where to find Springer."

Ultra Magnus nodded, proceeded on his way, leaving Prime with the femme and other mech.

"Hot Rod, I thought I gave you an order," Prime said.

He frowned, started to retort, but thought better of it, taking off for the Autobot leader's office.

"Diversionary tactics?" Prime asked, regarding the female Autobot with amusement.

"It worked, didn't it?" Arcee said. "Sir."

"Your desire to keep your friends out of trouble is admirable, but they will have to learn to face the consequences of their actions," Prime said. "And poor Magnus, what's he going to think, seeing you that way with the hot shot?"

"Why would Ultra Magnus think anything of it?" Arcee said, feigning innocence.

"Take my advice--he's not as oblivious as you might think," Prime said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a disciplinary hearing to attend."

-----

Ultra Magnus' head hurt. It was only 0830 and already he had a strong desire to go back to his quarters and stay there. But he couldn't. Duty called, and at the moment, that included holding his temper in check. He could feel his professionalism slipping with each passing second, and considering how he felt, maybe it was needed. The city commander wasn't given to fits of emotion. Springer stood before him defiant, and looking like he didn't care, which served only to piss off Ultra Magnus even more.

"Pay attention, soldier," he snapped, raising his voice slightly.

Springer's attention abruptly returned to his commander.

"I don't know what's gotten into you and Hot Rod lately, but whatever it is, it ends _now_," Magnus said. "Your behavior has been disappointing and more than a little embarrassing. I've sung your praises to Optimus Prime and Prowl, so has Kup, and how do you repay us? By acting like a couple of. . .of hooligans, as the humans say. This personal vendetta against Prowl also ends. And what were you thinking this time--breaking into his quarters? Next time I'll let him shoot you, and I'll help."

To his credit, Springer didn't flinch.

"Now, as to your punishment, Prime and I discussed it and it was decided you will be temporarily re-assigned to the Ark," Magnus said. "You will report to Jazz immediately."

Springer's face did change this time. He frowned.

"Any questions?" Magnus asked.

"That doesn't sound much like a punishment," Springer said. "Shipping me off? And what about Rodi? He going too?"

"Consider yourself lucky," Magnus said. "Optimus suggested having you both scrub every square inch of Autobot City with a human tooth brush, but another option was decided upon instead. Springer, I trust you, I know what you're capable of. Optimus Prime does not. He trusts my judgment, always has, but when it comes to you and Hot Rod, he thinks I'm wrong. Separating you and Hot Rod is punishment enough, I think. Always has been, but think of this not as punishment, but as a chance to prove yourselves not to me, but to Prime and anyone else who doubts your potential. Springer, do not let me down."

-----

Optimus Prime sized up the young mech standing across from his desk. Cocky, rebellious, thought he knew better than anyone else. Had a very interesting tendency to follow rules to the letter, but sometimes, he broke them, and when he did, it usually did not work out in his favor. One-half of pair that was becoming a bigger pain in the aft than the twins' early antics. Damn annoying, hearing from Magnus and Kup how capable Hot Rod and Springer were, respected warriors, and then witnessing firsthand their disregard for authority and downright stupidity. Seeing such wasted potential. He knew they had potential. He'd seen that, too. Maybe, being new to Earth, they thought they had a point to prove. They certainly had a right to earn their place in the ranks, but "earned" was the proper term. No one was going to hand them anything, and Prime was going to make sure they realized it was going to take hard work to earn his trust and respect.

At the moment, Hot Rod was standing at attention, or trying. He fidgeted. Good. He's uncomfortable, as he should be, Prime reflected. He hated having to use intimidation to get a point across, but sometimes, it was the only thing that worked.

"Have anything to say for yourself?" Prime asked.

"No sir," Hot Rod answered.

"You know why you're here don't you?" Prime said.

"Twenty-eight incidents of insubordination, assaulting a fellow Autobot or officer and pulling pranks," Hot Rod said.

"Good. You can count," Prime said. "But you, Hot Rod, you're here because you've proven you are nothing more than a liability to me."

The Autobot leader noticed the younger mech stiffen slightly at such a suggestion, so he decided to keep going.

"The problem is not that you break the rules," Prime said. "The issue is you lack the experience necessary to discern when and how to break them. Rules can be bent, orders can be disobeyed, but there is a time and place. On the battlefield, you've disobeyed orders, which has caused injuries to others, including myself. And you've created chaos with Springer. My question is, what lengths are you willing to go to toward rectifying this behavior?"

No answer. Not good.

Prime decided to try a different tactic.

"I understand you're interested in working with Kup once he assumes his position as security director here at the city," Prime said. "An ambitious posting for someone of your experience, especially when there are other qualified individuals who could easily take that place."

"The difference is I'm willing to work for it," Hot Rod said. "I'm not afraid to work, to learn, in order to earn it."

"Good answer," Optimus said. "However, if you want such a position, you are going to have to earn it. And before that, you must earn my trust. Do you think you are capable of that?"

"Whatever it takes," Hot Rod said.

"Then I assume you're willing to take part in a reconnaissance mission to check out some energy readings on Cybertron?"

"Yes, sir," Hot Rod said. "But. . ."

"But what?"

"I thought I was supposed to be punished. . ."

"You are," Prime said. "You're to accompany me to Cybertron, and you will do exactly as I say. There will be absolutely no deviation from plans unless I give orders to the contrary. You will learn to obey orders even if it kills you."

-----

Prowl waited outside the Ark, calm and collected. He promised himself he would not lose his temper again. A certain recent addition to Earth's Autobot forces seemed to exist for no other purpose than to make his life a living hell. And apparently, angering him was Springer's newfound purpose in life. Why did everyone think making him snap was so entertaining? Too bad they couldn't switch places and experience one of his infamous processor meltdowns while _he_ pointed and laughed.

However, that was impossible and unprofessional. Prowl snorted. Speaking of unprofessional, he was going to have a word with Prime at the first opportunity offered. Being assigned as Springer's patrol partner was Prime's idea of a solution. He hoped by working together, they would get to know one another, and hopefully learn to respect each other. And winged Terran porcines would fly, as the humans said.


	5. Chapter 5

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"Are you crazy?" Ironhide asked in disbelief. "You're taking that little punk on a scouting mission? You need a scout, take Bumblebee. I'll go with you. . ."

"Ironhide, I appreciate your concern, but it's a routine scouting mission. It will be fine," Optimus said, placing his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"It's just that I don't trust that screw-up to watch your back," Ironhide said.

"I believe Hot Rod understands the gravity of his situation and will act accordingly," Optimus said. "Besides, was I any different when I was his age?"

That seemed to shut Ironhide up.

"We'll be back in a couple of days, Ironhide," Optimus said, walking away.

Ironhide watched him transform, shaking his head in frustration. Some things never changed.

-----

Springer slowed, transforming just outside the Ark's entrance. He barely registered the presence of another Autobot as he walked inside.

"Too good to say hello?"

The triple changer stopped, head snapping around at the sound of that voice. Prowl.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Springer said.

"Waiting for you to show," Prowl said. "You're to report to Jazz first, then come see me when you're finished with him. I'll be waiting here."

Springer kept on going. He was going to make sure his meeting with Jazz lasted as long as possible.

-----

Jazz sat in his office, working on an overdue report. Not that Optimus Prime was all that eager to read it. He had enough to keep him busy lately, but it's the thought that counts, Jazz thought. Hearing footsteps, he looked up. Springer. The triple changer walked in, sat down.

"Hey Springer," Jazz said, setting down his data pad. "Welcome to the Ark."

"Yeah, whatever," Springer said.

"No reason to get snippy," Jazz said, coming around to the front of his desk. He took a seat on the desk, adopting a casual pose, hoping to set Springer at ease. He'd heard the triple changer was easy-going, but his energy field and body language radiated hostility. "We're all friends here."

"Not according to Prowl," Springer said. "If you listen to him, it sounds like having friends is a bad thing."

Jazz frowned behind his visor, grateful, once again, he always wore it in public. "I know Prowler can be. . .formal, but. . ."

"Formal? More like uptight," Springer said.

"That too," Jazz said. "But ignore it. He's under a lot of pressure, has a lot on his mind. And since you've been here on Earth, you've been one more thing adding to it."

"Look, the pranks Rodi and I pull. . ."

"Are a distraction," Jazz said. "Nothing wrong with pulling an occasional prank. You keep getting caught. That's the problem."

Springer frowned.

"And the other stupid things you two keep pulling are just that--stupid," Jazz said. "Lettin' something like a femme come between you and your best friend, also stupid. The separation between you and Hot Rod isn't permanent. Keep your head down, do you job and you'll be back at the city in no time. Think you can do that?"

"Yes," Springer said.

"That's good to hear," Jazz said. "You're being assigned to routine patrol for now. Just one thing--your partner for the foreseeable future will be Prowl."

"What?"

"You heard me," Jazz said. "This is as much Prime's idea as it is Ratchet's. Get Prowler away from some of the big stress and let him work on the smaller problems, and help resolve you two resolve your interpersonal problems. Now get out. You're late, and Prowler doesn't take kindly to tardies."

Springer didn't argue. He walked from the office, resigned to his fate.

Jazz grinned. The next few days were going to be eventful. He'd bet on it. Prowl and Springer were either going to kill each other or come to an understanding of sorts. He was going to have front row seats for it, and if he didn't know better, he'd swear their was an attraction between the two. Maybe, because Prowl hadn't had such a violent reaction to anyone that Jazz could remember, which meant Springer had gotten under his armor. Now, he'd just have to sit back and wait to see how it all played out.


	6. Chapter 6

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Nothing ever followed routine, Prowl noted, diving behind a rock formation large enough to provide cover for himself. His "routine" first patrol with Springer was not going as planned. If not for the interference of Thundercracker and Skywarp, Springer might well be in the brig back at the Ark, or worse, the Autobot second command reflected, squeezing off a couple of shots as Thundercracker strafed overhead. Rolling to his right as Skywarp suddenly appeared beside him, Prowl raised his arm, slamming his fist into the side of the Seeker's head, stopping only long enough to watch him crumple to the ground.

Speaking of the pain in his aft triple changer, where was Springer? Prowl took a quick look around, assessing his tactical situation. One Seeker removed from the fight, the other currently coming back around for another sweep. And Springer was not on the ground nearby, under cover, where he'd been minutes before. No. The slagger was in the air, and about to get himself taken apart by Thundercracker if he wasn't careful. Springer and careful. In the same sentence. Prowl's vision started swimming at the illogic of the statement, but he gritted his denta, forcing himself to concentrate on the situation at hand, praying he wouldn't have a meltdown.

Imagining ripping Springer's spark from his body helped. Imaging what would happen to _him _if he let that happen to a fellow Autobot at the hands of a Decepticon snapped him out of his fog. Prowl ran the odds, calculating his best chance of evening the odds and getting rid of Thundercracker. There was an 87.76 percent probability he would be able to hit the Seeker with his acid pellets, if he came close enough. However, Thundercracker's speed was a deterrent. But if he could get Springer to lure Thundercracker down. . .his decision made, Prowl commed Springer.

:Get Thundercracker to fly low: Prowl said. :Do not engage. Just get him down, I'll take care of the rest:

:Are you crazy?: Springer said. :I can take care of him. Shut up and watch:

Prowl started to reply, but Springer cut him off. He watched as the triple changer turned from being chased to hovering, facing Thundercracker. Springer fired two missiles, which, of course, the Seeker avoided, flying down low, rolling and coming back for another pass. Prowl lined up a shot, squeezed the trigger, didn't realize Skywarp was up and had appeared behind him. The Decepticon cold-cocked the the Autobot in the back of the head. Prowl's shot went wide, missing its intended target, connecting with Springer instead.

-----

Cybertron. Being back always gave Optimus Prime a feeling of homesickness for Earth. Then again, Cybertron was no longer the planet it once was. The world was cold, empty and silent, save for the sound of his own engine and that of Hot Rod's, which he occasionally revved, trying to shoot past his leader.

:Slow down: Prime commed, putting himself in front of Hot Rod. Keeping the younger mech's enthusiasm for speed curbed was proving a challenge. Obviously, the threat of Shockwave or Seekers was not enough to keep Hot Rod from speeding. And speaking of speeding, Prime thought, he and Hot Rod were going to have a long talk at some point about all the other Autobot's speeding tickets.

Hot Rod did as he was told, checking his speed and pulling within an acceptable following distance.

:Optics and sensors sharp: Prime said. :We're reaching the site where the energy readings originate, although if I'm right, we might have to do some exploring to reach them. Stay close, and no matter what happens, follow my lead. I hope I am explicitly clear on that:

:You are: Hot Rod said.

:Good: Prime said, coming to a stop. He transformed, waited for Hot Rod to follow suit. The Autobot leader motioned for the younger mech to follow him inside an abandoned building.

"We're going down into the sublevels of the planet," Prime said. "The energy readings are coming from the planetary core, which I believe are emanating from the plasma energy changer. Unfortunately, the easy way to the core is sealed, and the Decepticons will be watching, so we'll have to find an alternate way down. This part of Iacon is one of the oldest sections of the city, and it was built over a series of conduits and tunnels leading down to the core."

"And this is supposed to be a good idea?" Hot Rod asked, instantly regretting it, from the look in Prime's optics.

"If you're afraid, you can take yourself back to the space bridge," Prime said.

"I am not afraid," Hot Rod said. "I just meant. . .is there another way to go about this?"

"Questioning my logic and leadership abilities?"

"No," Hot Rod said. "It's just that you're Prime, and this is just a scouting mission."

"Your concern for my well-being is duly noted, but I have the experience and knowledge necessary to complete this mission," Prime said. "While you are here to observe and learn, and hopefully provide backup. Any more questions?"

"No."

-----

Prowl sat on the edge of his assigned berth in the med bay, doubled over, holding his aching head in his hands. He'd crashed. Hard. A quick internal scan showed blunt trauma to his head and processor, coupled with his crash, explaining the excruciating pain in his head. He slowly onlined his optics, staring the floor a few seconds to regain his equilibrium. With a sharp intake of air, he let go of his head, taking a look around the med bay. No Ratchet. Interesting. And there, parked on the berth next to his, was Springer, lounging. The green Autobot frowned when he saw Prowl looking at him.

"Welcome back, cupcake," Springer said. "Nice shooting out there. No wonder you guys haven't ended the war yet. You couldn't hit the broadside of a human barn with a Dinobot. I'm lucky there wasn't much damage. So much for that legendary battle computer of yours. Some tactician you are."

The pain in Prowl's head was swiftly replaced by the pain in his aft, who he wanted to throttle. He counted backwards from 10. Didn't help.

"What, nothing to say?" Springer said. "Then again, the truth hurts, doesn't it?"

Prowl felt something small snap inside his head, accompanied by a soft ping audible only to his own hearing. He calculated he had roughly 30 seconds before he hit the floor, so he was going to take full advantage.

"If I intended on shooting you, we would not be having this conversation now," Prowl said. "Because you'd be laid out cold and dead and gray on a slab. However, you are not worth the effort such marksmanship would entail, because your own stupidity will surely see you through to your inevitable end. . ."

He grabbed his head, his optics stuttered as he fell forward off his berth.

-----

Ultra Magnus let himself into the washracks, slowly divesting himself of his armor. This was the last time he let the twins and Ironhide talk him into a training exercise. Or not, he reflected, grinning to himself. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Ironhide came back covered with more paint markers than he, but he was covered in mud. There was mud in places the city commander was sure he'd never remove it from.

Venting air in a sigh, Ultra Magnus turned on the water, amazed once again at how much of the stuff there was available on Earth. Autobot City recycled water, but still, it was a luxury Cybertron and later the colonies never afforded. He reached for some cleanser, only to find the dispenser empty. Great. Now he'd have to go back to his quarters and get some. Sighing again, the dripping wet city commander left the wash racks, ignoring the surprised looks he was getting. So what. He was out of his armor. Except he didn't see Arcee come around the corner as he exited his quarters, nor the look on her face when she saw him. Out of his armor.

Now that was a sight, Arcee thought. Almost identical in form to Optimus Prime, except where Prime was red and blue, Magnus was white and silver. Stunning. And Ultra Magnus looked naked without it. Wait. . .

"Lass, you might want to pick your jaw up off the ground."

Arcee snapped around to see Kup standing beside her, arms crossed, an amused look on his face.

"Cybertron's No. 2 femme-magnet and he doesn't even know it," Kup said. "Pity, really, nice mech like that. . ."

"What?" Arcee managed.

"Pretty lass like you, nice mech like Ultra Magnus. . .pity nobody will do anything about it," Kup said. He patted Arcee on the shoulder, leaving her alone. Sparklings. Sometimes they needed just a little shove in the right direction. . .

-----

They were being hunted. Optimus Prime had always heard stories when he was youngling in Iacon about something hiding in Cybertron's depths. But he'd never wanted to find out the truth for himself. He knew that truth firsthand now. The only word that came to mind to describe the creatures following himself and Hot Rod were allicons. Savage and swarming, they'd almost overwhelmed the two Autobots twice in their fight to return to the surface. And Hot Rod had already saved his aft once, and had paid for it. The Autobot leader spared the younger mech beside him a glance. Hot Rod looked back, frowning.

:You all right?: Prime asked.

:Fine: Hot Rod answered. :Are you sure you know where we're going this time?:

:Yes: Prime commed back. :I know this area. We're close to the release gate for the canals on the surface. Not much further now:

He started to say more, but Hot Rod had stopped, was looking back behind them. He looked back also, met his optics.

:Run:


	7. Chapter 7

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ultra Magnus didn't mind when Arcee asked if she could accompany him to the Ark. Her presence was always a welcome one, except at the moment, she was in ops, talking with Bumblebee while he waited for Jazz to join him in the conference room. The city commander didn't have all the details, but he knew there was another incident between Prowl and Springer. And another matter was Optimus had missed a communications check-in. Could mean anything, but Ultra Magnus hoped it wasn't trouble. He would worry about it later, because Jazz walked into the room. He sat down across from Ultra Magnus.

"What happened this time?" he asked.

"Prowl accidentally shot Springer during their fight with Thundercracker and Skywarp earlier today," Jazz said. "Prowl suffered a crash during the fight, and another thanks to Springer's goading a while ago. Ratchet is not happy."

"Want me to talk to Springer?" Magnus said.

"If you think it'll do any good," Jazz said.

"I don't think Springer will listen," Magnus said. "I think he's past that point."

"Then what are we gonna do about it?"

-----

Hot Rod had a choice to make. He usually didn't have a problem disobeying orders. He knew he should, considering he'd been ordered at the beginning of the mission to _follow_ orders, but at the same time, given the present situation, it seemed like a good time to disregard orders. He turned and ran back, throwing himself into the pile of allicons swarming Optimus Prime. He retracted one hand, revealing a spinning saw blade. He went to work, slicing with one hand, hitting and shooting with his other.

Only a couple left, and Prime was able to join the fight when when Hot Rod didn't see one charging from behind, grabbing his right arm and shoulder in its jaws. He screamed in agony as it bit down, rending armor and tearing energon lines and connections, but the young Autobot didn't fall. He tried twisting away, but it only bit down harder. His vision swam, but he managed to get his left arm up, shot at the allicon's optic with the lasers on his arm. It released its grip, only a little, and it started to drag him back down the tunnel, away from Optimus. But Hot Rod saw something flash by his own head, heard the allicon's dying screams as Optimus Prime used his own energon axe on the beast.

On his knees, Hot Rod tried to keep from drifting into oblivion, trying to ignore the pain. Prime knelt by him, retracting his own blade.

"Hot Rod, are you all right?"

"Peachy," Hot Rod said, snorting.

"Stay there while I go find our weapons," Prime said. "Then we'll go get you some help."

-----

Late evening. Jazz stretched, stood to leave his office. He hated being in charge, even for a few days, although having Kup and Ultra Magnus around helped lessen his burden, considering Prowl was out of commission. Poor Prowler. Another crash, and so soon. Maybe he needed a vacation? A short one? Maybe Ratch would like the idea? He'd suggest it in the morning, but first, he wanted to spend a little time with Sideswipe, and do something. . .recreational.

He walked out into the corridor, only to find Sideswipe coming his way, Sunstreaker at his side.

"We need to talk," Sideswipe said, dragging his mate back inside the office.

"About?" Jazz asked.

"That aft-head who keeps breaking our Prowlie," Sideswipe said.

"We can make it look like an accident," Sunstreaker said.

"What?" Jazz said.

The twins looked at each other.

"I told you he wouldn't like the idea," Sunstreaker said.

"He doesn't like the idea because we haven't explained it yet," Sideswipe said.

"What idea?" Jazz said, glancing between the twins.

"That jackass Springer keeps breaking Prowlie," Sideswipe said. "We don't like it. Not one bit. Sunny and I have the corner on the market for driving Prowlie nuts. I mean, we prank him, disobey orders, but we never pushed so far so fast. If it was anybody but Prowl, we'd both be impressed, but we're not. So if you'd like, we can make the problem go away."

"Just say yes," Sunstreaker said.

"I'm sure Prowl would appreciate the concern, but don't ya think that's an overreaction?" Jazz said.

Another glance exchanged between the twins. "No," they said in unison.

"I'm gonna forget we had this conversation," Jazz said. "So will you. 'Sides, c'mon. Let's go grab some energon. As for you, sunshine, go find Bluestreak. It's been way too long since you two spent some time together."

Sunstreaker glared. "I'm not seeing Bluestreak."

"Not if ya ain't spending any time together," Jazz said. "Get out of here. And if you want to see Prowler, it'll have to wait until morning. Ol' Hatchet ain't allowing visitors until then."

He and Sideswipe watched Sunstreaker go.

"C'mon, 'Sides," Jazz said. "Don't worry about Springer. Me and Magnus got it covered."

-----

Ultra Magnus looked at the chronometer on his desk, cringing. It was later than he expected. He didn't mind covering for Optimus while he was away, but even the city commander had his limits. Not that he'd admit to them very often. He knew how to keep Ratchet off his back. He stood, considering heading for the rec room for some energon, but chose his quarters instead. Peace and quiet and recharge. He walked down the corridor, entered his quarters, glad for the respite they offered. Kup would call if he was needed.

Satisfied all was in order, for the moment, Magnus settled back on his berth. He could get energon in the morning. Offlining his optics, he relaxed. And his door chimed. Kup would comm him, so it wasn't him. Magnus rolled off the berth, answered the door, finding Arcee with a container of energon.

"Hello Ultra Magnus," she said. "I know you were working late, and no one had seen you in the rec room, so I hope you don't mind I brought you some energon. . ."

The femme shoved the container into Magnus's hands, and shoved past him into his quarters, leaving the mech standing there, pondering her intentions. He turned around to find Arcee taking a seat on _his_ berth, sitting down, drawing her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs, head tilted, watching him. Like one of those domesticated Earth felines. . .a cat.

"Something the matter Ultra Magnus?" Arcee asked.

"No. Nothing," Magnus said, taking a sip of energon. "Thank you for the energon."

"You're welcome," Arcee said.

"But it's late, and I know you have patrol early in the morning and I have a meeting with the humans, a Rotary Club in Portland, something about breakfast at 0630 so you should go," Magnus said.

"To the meeting too, or leave your quarters?" Arcee asked. "I'd love to come."

She stood, gave him a kiss on the cheek as she passed by.

Femmes. . .

-----

Optimus Prime could tell Elita-1 was not impressed by his appearance, covered in gore, grime and energon, half-dragging an injured Hot Rod with him. At least she answered the distress call, Prime thought.

"What happened?" Elita asked.

"That can wait," Prime said. "Right now, we need to get out of here, and Hot Rod needs medical attention."

The leader of the female Autobots gave the young mech with Prime a glance, noting his injuries. "Firestar, let's get them back to base."

Prime helped load Hot Rod once the femme was transformed, following them back to base.

Once there, he let Firestar's apprentice, Flareup, see to his own wounds before making sure Hot Rod would be all right. Firestar wasn't a trained medic, but she assured the Autobot leader she could patch up Hot Rod well enough to get back to Earth. Satisfied he was in good hands, Prime hit the wash racks. And now, a few hours with Elita-1 in his arms was all he wanted. Prime entered her quarters, slid into the berth next to her.

He spooned up next to the femme, retracted his battle mask, placing a gentle kiss on her audio, trailed more kisses down her neck to her shoulder, gave her a playful nip. And was rewarded by a sharp elbow to his mid-section for his efforts.

"Not tonight, Optimus," Elita said.

He propped himself up on his left arm, staring down at the femme, deciding on one more try. He leaned down again, kissed her neck and shoulder, slid his right hand down her curves to her slender waist, and this time, she shoved him out of the berth.

"You can spend tonight somewhere else," she said.


	8. Chapter 8

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

On duty in the Ark's operations center, Springer was not impressed by his present company. Not all of it, anyway. Trailbreaker was in charge of the watch. He kept an optic on everyone, but let them do their jobs, treating them like adults instead of sparklings, unlike a certain stick up his aft mech in the med bay. Warpath was on Springer's right, and he tried to ignore him. He didn't have a problem with the other Autobot, he just didn't know him well enough to make conversation. On his left, sat Bumblebee, who was talking enough for the three of them combined. Springer listened, mainly because it was something to do because the evening was turning out to be so damn boring, and Bumblebee was actually friendly. Not snotty, or arrogant, like certain other Autobots on duty in ops, like Mirage and Sunstreaker.

". . .and you should really, really, really try and get along with Prowl, because he's not bad once you get to know him, he's best friends with Jazz and Optimus, and the twins really like him, no matter how much they try and deny it," Bumblebee said. And suddenly, his voice dropped.

"There's something else you need to know, but I'll tell you later," Bumblebee said.

"Uh huh," Springer said.

"Look," Bumblebee hissed. "I'm not trying to interfere, I'm trying to help you. I'm pretty sure Hot Rod would like his best friend to remain functioning, so you could at least hear me out, but not now. After shift. I just need a few minutes."

"All right. A few minutes, but that's it," Springer said.

Bumblebee sighed. It was better than nothing.

-----

Checking up on his injured subordinate was better than staying in Elita-1's quarters, Optimus Prime reflected, walking down the corridor to the base's small med bay. It wasn't often he decided to assert himself when it came to his mate and certain activities. It irked him he'd gotten himself kicked out of her berth. He was Prime. He was responsible for an entire race, the bearer of their most sacred artifact and all it entailed. Decepticons quaked at the mere mention of his name. He commanded the respect and the trust of those for who he was responsible. He was also a mech who hadn't been alone with his mate in a long time, and was it so wrong he wanted a little private time with his femme? Apparently so.

Prime resisted the urge to smack his head against the wall as he waited for the med bay door to open. Anomalous energy readings, allicons, and his responsibilities be damned. All he wanted now was to get back to Earth. He'd give Elita a few days to cool off, then come back again, maybe bring Ironhide along next time.

The door finally opened, and he entered, seeing Hot Rod connected to an energon drip, chatting with Flareup. The femme, seeing her Prime, quickly dismissed herself, stopping only long enough to give Hot Rod a smile over one shoulder.

Prime crossed his arms. "Enjoying your stay here on Cybertron?" he asked.

"I think I'm ready to go back to Earth and face a nice, safe Decepticon patrol," Hot Rod said.

"Had enough of allicons?"

"You could say that," Hot Rod said, struggling to sit up.

Optimus shoved him back down on the surgical berth. He sat down on the berth across from Hot Rod's.

"Well, we have two choices--call Magnus and wait here for a shuttle to pick us up, or go back to Earth by space bridge," Optimus said. "We could leave in a few hours if you're feeling up to it."

"I can still transform, I think, and I don't know that we'll have much trouble with Shockwave," Hot Rod said.

"Good," Prime said, standing. He gave Hot Rod's shoulder a quick squeeze. "I'll go talk with Elita, see if she would be willing to accompany us to the space bridge when we leave. . ."

"Sir, no offense, but is that a good idea?" Hot Rod said. "Not that sneaking off is a good idea, but Elita-1 didn't seem too happy to see you earlier. I wouldn't piss her off if I were you."

"It's too late for that, I'm afraid," Prime said.

-----

Bumblebee waited outside the Ark for Springer to show. He only needed a few minutes. Five. Really. Just that small amount of time to pass along a crucial bit of advice. Whether or not the triple changer would take it to spark was a different matter. Bumblebee really liked the guy. He was fun and easy-going, and he did not want to see anything happen to him, or any Autobot. Friendly comeuppance for a prank was acceptable. Infliction of bodily harm was not. And honestly, the little Autobot was sick of the "us versus them" attitude between some of Ultra Magnus' crew and the old Ark crew. They were all on the same side, from the same planet, sporting the same symbol, yet some seemed to think they had something to prove. That was fine if you were trying to earn an assignment, but not drive someone crazy.

"What's so important, buzzy?" Springer said, finally making an appearance.

"Buzzy. That's cute, but my name is Bumblebee, jolly green giant," Bumblebee said. "Now, do you want to hear what I have to say or not?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Bumblebee said. "Look, while you're here at the Ark, try and dial down the hostility toward Prowl, will you? Some of the bots here are starting to take it personally, so I'd watch my back if I were you."

There. It was out in the open, and without dropping any names.

"Is that a threat?" Springer asked.

Bumblebee sighed. "No. A warning, and not from me. Just some friendly advice," he said.

"Yeah, whatever," Springer said, walking away.

Bumblebee frowned, but he smiled when the triple changer looked back over his shoulder.

"Thanks," he said.


	9. Chapter 9

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

0730. Sunstreaker knew he was taking a chance, going to see Prowl so early, but it meant Ratchet wouldn't be around. The yellow twin walked into the med bay, greeted by Prowl's optics meeting his own as he entered.

"I hope you're not planning a prank," Prowl said. "Not that I wouldn't mind one of your pranks, but right now, it would be rather inappropriate."

"Can it, Prowl," Sunstreaker said. "No prank."

"Then. . ."

"I just wanted to tell you that if you say the word, no more Springer," Sunstreaker said. "That's all." He watched as Prowl frowned, clearly the words were sinking in. For several moments, the second in command sat silent.

"Sunstreaker, you have no idea how tempted I am to take you up on that offer. I appreciate your concern. . ."

"But it's not an Autobot thing to do," Sunstreaker said.

"No," Prowl said.

Sunstreaker started to walk from the room, but he turned back, going back to give Prowl an awkward hug.

"At least keep it in mind," Sunstreaker said, letting go.

"I will," Prowl said, watching the other Autobot leave.

-----

Getting called away from a human social function was a relief. Finding the reason was an injured aft head of a Prime and Hot Rod was not, nor was helping fend off attacking Decepticons as the two disembarked from the space bridge. Ultra Magnus was not happy as Arcee helped him get the two to Autobot City's med bay. Ratchet was already on his way to help with Hot Rod's repairs, and First Aid was running scans on both the younger Autobot and Prime.

Magnus felt nothing but sympathy for Arcee as she glanced at Hot Rod, who was offline on one of the surgical berths, and concern for the young mech. His annoyance was reserved for his friend, but Prime wasn't looking. He was now trying to explain to Ratchet what had happened, but the medic told him to shut up and park his aft on a berth. The city commander allowed himself a small smile at that. Ratchet could put any of them in his place, and it never, ever changed.

"What're you smiling at, spit and polish? Either stay and help or get out of the way," Ratchet said, shouldering past the big city commander, reaching for a piece of diagnostic equipment. "And how many times do I have to tell you to not wear that damn armor all day every day?"

Magnus moved out of the way, taking a seat on a berth by Arcee, who was sitting by Prime. He frowned, seeing her arm around the other mech, but it was his hand she twined fingers with. He sighed, settling in for the long haul. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, sitting with Arcee, while Hot Rod was repaired, and he hoped it wasn't the last.

-----

Springer frowned, seeing Prowl walk into ops, and over to Jazz. The Autobot second and third in command talked quietly for a few moments before Prowl broke away, coming to his station.

"Ultra Magnus has requested you return to the city immediately," Prowl said. "I'll go with you."

"What have I done now?" Springer asked, following the other Autobot outside the Ark.

"Nothing that I'm aware of at the moment," Prowl said, transforming. "Are you coming or not?"

Springer transformed himself, following the other Autobot, cursing Primus all the way to the city.

-----


	10. Chapter 10

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Arcee was waiting outside the med bay for Springer and Prowl to arrive. Magnus had stayed inside with Prime, lending moral support while they watched Ratchet and Red Alert repair Hot Rod. At the moment, Perceptor was tending to their leader's wounds. Mechs, Arcee thought. Thick-headed, brash, stupid mechs. Allicons? Seriously? She didn't doubt Prime, and she really wanted to stay with Magnus and be there for Hot Rod, but she felt better about leaving Rodi with Magnus there. And Springer. Primus. He was being a royal pain in the aft lately. If the green jackass didn't shape up on his own, she was going to help him fix whatever problem he was having, violence optional.

She was having no problem fitting in; Hot Rod wasn't either, barring his cockiness and temper and stupid antics with Springer, nor was the rest of Magnus' team. Arcee just wanted her friends to settle down and do their jobs. War be damned, everything else would fall into place, she hoped. And what was keeping Springer? Prowl and speed limits, no doubt.

Arcee was almost ready to go back inside the med bay when she saw Springer round the corner down the hall with Prowl close behind.

"What's going on?" Springer asked. "It's Hot Rod, isn't it?"

"Yes," Arcee said, giving the triple changer a quick hug. "He and Prime were attacked on Cybertron, and Ratchet and Red Alert are working on Hot Rod right now."

Springer frowned. "Both of them working on him? What the hell happened? How bad is it?"

"Bad enough," Arcee said.

"That's why I got called here, isn't it?" Springer said, taking a step toward the sealed med bay door. He suddenly found Prowl's hand on his shoulder, fingers digging in hard, optics flinty.

:Don't: Prowl commed. One simple word, a single chance to not get his aft handed to him.

:I won't cause a scene in front of Arcee: Springer commed back. :But that's my best friend in their, so back off:

:If you can prove you can behave yourself: Prowl said.

Springer backed away from the door, contenting himself to wait.

-----

Ratchet wiped off his hands, glancing at his two patients. Ultra Magnus was trying to convince Optimus to lay down and get some recharge and First Aid was finishing with Hot Rod. The young mech wasn't out of the woods yet, and if his wounds were any indication, Prime's own minor wounds could become serious. Repairing wasn't what the medic would call their work on Hot Rod. Salvage was more like it. They had to cut away the armor surrounding the initial wounds because something was causing corrosion and necrosis. The graying armor on Hot Rod's brightly colored frame was a shock, a sign his repair nanites weren't doing their job. Hard to do when whatever was causing the corrosion was killing them.

They'd sent a sample of the necrotic armor to Perceptor for analysis, and hopefully the scientist could help. For now, there wasn't much to do for Hot Rod besides wait for the lab results to come back and go from there.

"You got this covered?" Ratchet asked Frist Aid. The young medic nodded.

"Good. I'll be back later. Call me if anything changes."

"I will," First Aid said.

Ratchet turned his attention to Prime. "Listen to Magnus for once," the medic said. "Rest, all right?"

"I'll try," Prime said.

"All right," Ratchet said. "C'mon, Magnus."

Magnus clapped Prime on the shoulder, spared Hot Rod a glance. Still unconscious, and would be for some time. Nothing left to do now besides go talk to Arcee and Springer.


	11. Chapter 11

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Prowl sat at a table in the rec room with Arcee and Springer, enjoying listening to the femme talk, appreciated how she kept him engaged in the conversation, even if the third part of it was Springer. Arcee could talk, and at the moment, she was trying her best to keep her mind off her friend's injuries, and was no doubt trying to keep Springer's thoughts from cycling that way also.

Prowl watched the triple changer, whose posture and look in his optics belied how he was really feeling--a tight grip on his energon cube and tense all over, despite the smile on his face. He saw Ultra Magnus, met his optics. Prowl reached over, put his hand on Springer's shoulder.

"It's Magnus," he said. "I'll leave you so you can talk. I'll be in ops when you're ready to return to the Ark."

Springer nodded slightly, turning his attention to the other Autobot. Magnus sat down at the table.

"How's Hot Rod?" Arcee asked.

"Resting, for now, but. . ."

"But what?" Springer asked.

"Ratchet and Perceptor are doing some tests before they can decide what to do next," Magnus said. "The damage has been repaired, for the moment, but something is keeping Hot Rod's internal repair systems offline."

"That's it?" Springer asked.

"Hot Rod's in good hands," Magnus said. "You know that."

"Yeah," Springer said. "See you later."

He walked away. Magnus met Arcee's optics as the other Autobot left.

"That went well," Magnus said.

"He needs to be alone," Arcee said. "You know how he can be. . ."

"That's what worries me," Magnus said. "But how about you--are you all right?"

"I'm worried about Hot Rod, but I know Ratchet will do everything he can for him," Arcee said.

Magnus placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're right," he said. "If you need to talk, you know where to find me."

Arcee smiled, watching Magnus go. He just didn't get it, did he?

-----

Prowl gave Springer some time alone, after a brief conversation with Ultra Magnus, who stated that such an action would be best. The tactician concurred, but it was getting late, and they both needed to return to the Ark. He had patrol with Springer at 0600. The Autobot second in command sighed to himself as he drove the switchback up Lookout Mountain to its observation deck. Springer was there; had been since leaving the city.

He transformed as he reached his destination, and Springer did not immediately acknowledge his presence.

"I know you're there, and we need to head back," Springer said.

"Yes, we do, but I have some information to pass along regarding Hot Rod's condition," Prowl said.

Springer snapped around. "What?"

"He's doing better," Prowl said. "Ratchet and Perceptor have come up with a method to treat the necrosis, which seems to be working."

"That's good to hear," Springer said. "If he's doing better tomorrow, can I come see him?"

"I don't see why not," Prowl said.

"OK," Springer said. "Let's go then."

-----

Optimus Prime sat up, took a glance around the med bay. Seeing no one but a sedated Hot Rod, he reached for the energon line in his arm, started to tug.

"You wouldn't be trying to leave, would you?"

Optics widening, Prime looked back toward Ratchet's office, finding First Aid standing in the door, arms crossed.

"Would you stay if I asked nicely?" the medic said.

This was a new tactic.

"Possibly," Prime said. "You won't tell Ratchet I tried to escape?"

"I understand your desire to leave, but you need rest, and still might require further medical care, if Hot Rod's condition is any indicator," First Aid said, nodding toward the other Autobot.

"What's wrong? He was fine a few hours ago. And are those bandages?" Prime said. "He was doing better after Perceptor applied the corrostop. . ."

First Aid's optics moved to Prime's own wound.

Prime looked down at his own hand and arm, which was wrapped in a white metallic mesh.

"They're bandages of a sort," First Aid said. "It's something Perceptor's been working on, to help accelerate the re-growth of armor. It and the corrostop together seem to be working, and Hot Rod's internal repair systems are initializing, but have yet to kick in. Your own wounds were starting the same process before those bandages were suggested. If it works correctly, it will help stimulate the growth of new dermal plating, and will be assimilated during the process."

"Did they figure out what was causing the necrosis?" Prime asked.

"Perceptor isolated a chemical compound from the wounds causing the corrosion," First Aid said. "Some of Earth's reptilians carry bacteria and poisons used to render their prey immovable, and it seems these allicons have evolved a similar trait. Perceptor, of course, is elated at this discovery and wants to go investigate further."

"Permission denied," Prime said.

"I'll tell him," First Aid said. "Prime, lay back down. Rest. I'll be here if you need anything, and I'll alert you if Hot Rod's condition changes."

Prime frowned, but laid back onto his berth. No use arguing with a medic.

-----

Arcee headed for the wash racks, annoyed. She didn't mind being the victim of a practical joke, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker weren't the ones covered in black paint. The femme didn't know who the intended victim was, nor did she want to stick around to find out. She left the discipline to Kup, not worrying about the twins' fate. She had more than enough to worry about--Hot Rod's condition, Springer's attitude, and avoiding the unwanted advances of any mechs in the washracks.

She didn't have her own washrack in her quarters, though eventually she was supposed to get them. As the only femme in a crew of mechs, she had to share, which usually meant getting up early or waiting until late to get cleaned up. Annoying, but she dealt with it.

Arcee vented air, sighing as she hit the button to activate the door to the communal facilities, taking a quick look around for any other bots. Damn. Currently occupied, it looked like, but only one mech. She focused her optics, looking through the steam, biting her hand to hold back the squeal when she saw who it was. Ultra Magnus. Devoid of armor. Standing with his back to her, both hands flat against the wall as he let the hot water stream over his frame.

Oh Primus.


	12. Chapter 12

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Decisions. Choices on the battlefield meant life or death for an Autobot. In this instance, life-altering. Potentially life or death, considering the target. A simple choice, Arcee thought. I can turn around and walk away and try and forget I was here. Or I can jump, as the humans say. The femme smiled to herself. Magnus was not going to know what hit him.

Arcee walked up behind the big mech, slipped her arms around him, pressed a kiss against the sensitive cables of his neck. She stepped back as Magnus turned around, looking for whoever had the nerve to invade his space. She locked optics with him when he saw it was her, smiled at him as she gave him a gentle shove against the wall.

"Arcee. . .uh. . .what. . ." Magnus stammered as Arcee kissed him. It took a few moments to come back to his senses. He thought he was hallucinating, but he'd never hallucinated Arcee covered in black paint splotches. He'd fantasized about the femme a few times, but. . .wait. What the hell was he thinking? He was her superior, and here he was, letting Arcee have her way with him.

"Do I need to explain it?" Arcee said, taking his head in her hands, caressing the line of his cheeks, his jaw. "I've been trying to get your attention for months. . ."

She kissed him again; Arcee smiled to herself as he kissed her back. Sometimes taking a risk paid off.

-----

Six agonizing hours so far on patrol and nothing going on. No Decepticons, no interesting Earth weather patterns, nothing to disrupt his boredom. No Prowl on his aft about everything, either. The slagger divided up their patrol route, reasoning they could cover twice as much ground in the same amount of time. Even Springer understood that, but Prowl took the part of the route that went through Portland, while he was stuck out on some two-lane highway in the middle of nowhere.

Springer considered heading back to Autobot City to check on Hot Rod, but Prowl had promised to contact him if he had any word on the other Autobot's condition. No news was supposedly good news, and disobeying orders would only lead to more trouble. And trouble of that kind was something Springer already had enough of.

He revved his engine as he felt a ping as someone tried comming him.

:What?: Springer asked.

:Just checking in: Prowl replied. :Anything to report?:

:Nothing out here but wildlife and trees and the occasional humans in recreational vehicles: Springer said.

:Typical: Prowl said. :Let me know if you see anything:

:Sure: Springer said.

:You don't have to be rude, but considering the source, I should be used to it: Prowl said. :I know I'm going to regret this, but once you complete one more loop, head back to the city so you can see Hot Rod. His condition hasn't changed, but your presence could make a difference. Just be back at the Ark before nightfall:

:Thanks: Springer said.

-----

Escaping the med bay was paramount. Optimus Prime was going stir crazy being confined to Ratchet's domain. The medic spared him an angry glance as he came back from his mid-day break, followed by Ironhide. Prime perked up, seeing his friend, who gave him a smile, but it quickly faded when he saw Hot Rod lying unconscious on another berth.

"Are those from shrapnel?" Ironhide asked, pointing at Hot Rod's injuries.

"No," Prime said. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Ironhide said, arms crossed.

"I don't even warrant a 'hello'?" Prime asked.

"Howdy Prime. How was Cybertron?" Ironhide said. "I told you taking the kid was a bad idea, didn't I?"

"Ironhide. . ."

"I was right. I'm not sayin' 'I told you so.' There's a difference," Ironhide said.

"Not from where I'm standing," Prime said.

"So what happened? You get hurt pulling hot shot's aft out of the fire?"

"Actually, it was the other way around," Prime said. "We were attacked by creatures. . .allicons. Hot Rod saved my life."

"That's one time I'm glad his insubordination worked out for the best," Ironhide said.

"As am I," Prime said.

"Will he be all right?" Ironhide said.

"Ratchet believes so," Prime said. "Hot Rod's condition continues to improve, but he still hasn't stabilized."

"Damn kid better pull through," Ironhide said. "I'm not finished bustin' some sense into him yet."

Prime smiled behind his battle mask. "I'll tell him that when he wakes," he said.

Ironhide snorted. "Speakin' of sense, have you seen Ultra Magnus today? He's been walkin' around in a fog, like he's dazed or somethin'. Distracted."

"Is he all right?" Prime said.

Ironhide shrugged. "Don't know. I haven't tried talkin' to him."

"Good luck getting Magnus to talk about anything besides work," Prime said.

"Well, I did manage to pry out of him he had to rescue you and Hot Rod from the space bridge when you came back," Ironhide said. "And thanks for askin' how things went in Japan."

"How did things go?" Prime asked.

"Swell," Ironhide said. "You can read my report when you get out of here."

"My trip to Cybertron wasn't a complete loss," Prime said. "I saw Chromia. She sends her love."

"You saw Mia? So that means you talked to Elita, too. How did that go?" Ironhide said.

"She threw me out of her quarters," Prime said.

"Good going," Ironhide said. "You two are just goin' through a rough patch. It'll pass. Look, I've gotta go. I have a meeting with Kup in a few minutes."

He clasped Prime's shoulder, walking from the med bay. Prime looked up, seeing Ratchet staring at him from over by the monitors connected to Hot Rod.

"'Rough patch?'" Ratchet said. "Your femme throws you out of her quarters and Ironhide calls that a rough patch. Why did Elita throw you out?"

"Ratchet, I am not discussing this right now," Prime said.

"Fine. We'll talk about it later."


	13. Chapter 13

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ultra Magnus set down his data pad, settling his head in his hands, offlining his optics. He hoped Arcee would still respect him after last night. Why had he let things go so far? Granted, he'd thought about it, hoped for it, but never dreamed in a million years he would Arcee in his berth. Not just his berth, but in his life as more than a fellow soldier or a friend. But how could he? He was her superior, well, no longer her immediate superior, but still. Protocol was protocol. Rules and regulations were meant to be upheld.

Fraternization wasn't forbidden per se, but one of those grey areas where Prime tended to look the other way. As long as no one let their personal lives interfere with their duties, it was fine. A few of the Ark crew were involved. Jazz and Sideswipe came to mind. Ironhide was bonded to Chromia, but that was an established relationship long before the war began, as was Optimus' relationship with Elita-1. They weren't bonded, but they were together. How much longer that relationship would hold, Magnus did not know.

Nor was it his business until things between Optimus and Elita settled down or ended. His own relationship problems were more pressing. He, Ultra Magnus, was having an actual relationship problem. Had he ever in his life had a relationship problem? Nothing specific came to mind. Relationships were one of those touchy-feely things femmes always obsessed about, not mechs like himself.

It was the middle of the afternoon and he was obsessing over what was potentially a non-relationship and nothing more than a one-night thing. He hoped it wasn't. Arcee deserved better, and he hoped she would give him a chance to show her that. She meant so much more to him than. . .wait a minute. In the wash racks, hadn't she said something about trying to catch his attention for months? She had, right?

He lowered his head to his desk, gently smacking it against the surface a few times, venting air in a long sigh. Femmes. Maybe Optimus could help him sort it all out?

-----

Optimus Prime watched as Springer exited Ratchet's office, optics straying to Hot Rod's inert form. The triple changer stopped by his friend a second, leaned down, whispered something in the other mech's audio before leaving the med bay. He nodded at Ultra Magnus as he entered, then was gone.

Prime frowned, give his friend a long, hard look. Ironhide was right. Magnus did look distracted.

"How are you?" Prime asked once Magnus was close.

"I honestly couldn't tell you," Magnus said.

"Why?" Prime asked.

"I'd tell you, but I don't want to discuss it in front of anyone else," Magnus said, shooting Ratchet a glance. The medic glared back from his office, but came out.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing," Magnus mumbled.

Prime and medic's optics met. This was unusual.

"Ratchet, can I talk to Magnus alone? I'll comm you if anything changes with Hot Rod, all right?" Prime said.

Ratchet considered it a moment, but caved. "Fifteen minutes, so make it snappy," he said, leaving the room.

"What's the matter?" Prime asked.

"I was ambushed," Magnus said, his expression somewhere between pained and embarrassed.

"On patrol? Are you. . ."

"Not on patrol. Last night. In the wash racks. I was ambushed by Arcee," Magnus said.

Prime resisted the urge to smack his own forehead. Looked like Magnus still didn't get it.

"Ambushed?" he repeated.

"Yes. Ambushed. Arcee ah, I allowed her to. . .have her way with me," Magnus said.

"You. And Arcee?" Prime said, fighting to keep from grinning, even though it was behind his battle mask.

"Yes. Me and Arcee. Once in the wash racks and twice in my quarters," Magnus said. "I. Was. Ambushed."

"Well, considering how long she's been after you, I'd say congratulations are in order," Prime said, pounding Magnus on the back. "It's about time you noticed."

Magnus frowned, mulling over his friend's words. "You knew? And you didn't tell me?"

"Magnus, my friend, it was rather obvious. . ."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because of the way you're acting right now," Prime said.

"If she was interested, why didn't Arcee just tell me?" Magnus said.

"She tried, but you wouldn't notice," Prime said. "I'm glad she finally did something to get your attention."

Magnus suddenly looked a little confused. "I'm not a prude, but I think interfacing should come. . ."

"Magnus, stow it. She has your attention now, so go talk to Arcee tonight. You might be surprised by what she has to say," Prime said.

"But. . ."

"No buts. Talk to her. The sooner the better," Optimus said, giving Magnus a gentle shove toward the door.


	14. Chapter 14

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The Ark. Springer didn't know why he came all the way back so soon. Staying at the city wasn't an option. He didn't want to stay, to see Hot Rod as he was. He vented air, sighing. He went to his quarters (not really *his* quarters, but the guest quarters assigned to him. Didn't want to start thinking the Ark assignment was going to be permanent.), throwing himself down on the berth.

Too early to turn in, and he didn't have permission to go anywhere else. Damn. He was stuck. Going to the rec room meant he'd have to talk, and Jazz wouldn't let him sulk. Maybe he could volunteer for a shift in ops just for something to do? The triple changer smacked himself in the forehead, groaning. His punishment was starting to have its desired effect.

But no. Not now. Worrying about Hot Rod wouldn't solve anything, nor would wondering what Arcee was up to, or if Kup was surviving training the Dinobots. Springer grinned. Now that would be something to see. . .

He cut off that thought as his door chime went off. He stood, walked over, palming the release, frowning when he saw it was Prowl. Springer didn't say anything as the second in command walked in.

"Bumblebee told me you were back, so I decided to come see how you're doing," Prowl said.

"Peachy," Springer said. "Now get out."

Prowl remained calm.

"Sorry, but you're not getting rid of me so easily," he said. "Look, you could've stayed at the city longer than you did. That's why I said you could stay. You can go back tomorrow, if you'll actually go spend the time with Hot Rod. His condition isn't any worse, nor has it improved, and Ratchet believes having you there talking to him could make a difference. First Aid supports that theory, so if I were you, and wanted my friend to get better, I'd do as the medics say."

Springer frowned.

"Fine. I'll go," he said.

"Good," Prowl said, turning to go, but he stopped. "However, I did not think you'd have to be ordered to spend time with your friend."

"You're not ordering me to do anything," Springer said. "For your information, it's just hard to see Hot Rod that way. He's never been down this long before. . ."

Prowl raised an optic ridge, surprised Springer would reveal what could be perceived as a weakness in front of *him*. But it was not a weakness, just an admission the other Autobot was concerned for his best friend.

"I know you're concerned about Hot Rod's condition, and if you need to talk, despite our differences, I would be willing to listen," Prowl said, hoping he would not live to regret such an offer. However, seeing an opportunity to extend an olive branch as the humans said, was too much.

"Yeah. Maybe," Springer said. "Thanks. Like *you* give a damn about anyone's well-being."

Prowl twitched slightly, his expression becoming unreadable.

"I am not as cold and emotionless as you might think," he said. "Where your behavior and perceptions are concerned, I am most willing to make an exception."

Springer's head snapped up, optics locking with the tactician's.

"Am I supposed to be afraid?" the triple changer asked.

"I would be," Prowl said.

Springer snorted. "Not in a million years," he said.

"I'm patient, and I can wait," Prowl said. "But you'll be lucky if you live that long, given your attitude."

"What's wrong with me and my attitude?" Springer said, standing.

"Where would you like me to start?" Prowl asked, tilting his head to the side, crossing his arms.

-----

Hiding in his quarters like a scared sparkling wasn't very mature, Ultra Magnus reflected. He faced death every day for millions of years and suddenly one attractive femme and all the possibilities wrapped up with it made him run. He wasn't running. Just hiding. Not hiding. . .uh, considering his options. And some help Prime was. Jackass. Cybertron's biggest femme magnet didn't have any advice to offer to help him out? Next time aft head needed tactical advice on the battle field and Prowl wasn't handy, Optimus was on his own.

How many times had he listened to his friend bemoan his own relationship problems with Elita-1? And the instant *he* needed a little help, slagger laughs and shoves him out the door. Damn it, Prime knew and didn't say a thing. Arcee wanted him? Really wanted him? He let himself feel a swell of hope. He stood, exiting his quarters to go fined the femme. He wasn't going to wait to have that discussion.

-----

Arcee sat in the rec room with Blurr, half-listening to her friend.

". . .. . ."

Arcee's attention became re-focused. "What was that last part?"

"Ultra Magnus has been really distracted all day," Blurr said. "Haven't you seen him?"

"How do you know all that?" Arcee asked, interested.

"I had just come from seeing Rodi myself and was standing out in the hall talking with First Aid when Springer came and left and Ultra Magnus showed up," Blurr said.

"Distracted huh?" Arcee said, smiling. This was good news indeed.


	15. Chapter 15

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ultra Magnus walked into the rec room, looking for Arcee, almost turned tail and ran back the other direction when she caught his optics and smiled. No. He was going to stand his ground and go talk to her. About *them*. He was almost to her table when he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind. The city commander turned around, finding Kup.

"You need to come down to ops," Kup said. "Incoming transmission from Cybertron--it's Elita-1. She wants to talk to you."

Slag.

8888888888

Springer faced the second in command of the Autobot forces, hands on hips, not so eager to hear the other mech's opinion.

Prowl didn't back down. "You're arrogant, for starters," he said. "Complete disregard for authority and protocol ranks right up there with it. Ultra Magnus and Kup have spoken quite highly of your abilities and your easy-going nature, but I have yet to see anything beyond glimmers of both."

"That's it?" Springer said.

"Not even close," Prowl said. "I'm just getting started, but if you wish to continue, I can oblige."

"I'll pass," Springer said. "Got patrol at 0600. It's not exactly getting late, but you can leave now."

He grabbed the tactician by the arm, dragging him from his quarters. He shoved him into the corridor, started to go back inside, but Prowl seized him by the shoulder, spinning him around.

"What is your problem?" Prowl said. "I don't care if you don't like me, but that's not the issue. You refuse to obey orders, and with that kind of attitude, you're going to get someone killed."

"It's gonna be you, jackass, if you keep it up," Springer said. "I don't think you want to hear everything that's wrong with you."

"Try me," Prowl said.

"Seriously?"

"Talk," Prowl said.

Springer snorted. "Well, you're the most unfeeling, uptight, cold-sparked bastard with a stick rammed so far up his aft I've ever seen in my life," he said. There. It was out in the open. And like the humans said, honesty was the best policy, or something like that. Heh. Prowl wasn't glitching or anything, so that was a good sign, wasn't it? Apparently not, from the look on his face. A look of sheer malice played across the other Autobot's face so fast Springer wasn't sure he saw it. But oh yes. Definitely pissed from the sudden spike in his energy field.

"Unfeeling? Cold sparked? If I didn't give a damn about those under my command, I wouldn't be here lecturing you now, would I?" Prowl said, stabbing a finger into Springer's chest.

The triple changer grabbed Prowl's wrist. "Touch me again, and you'll lose that hand," he said.

Fortunately for them both, Jazz was coming down the corridor, looking for Prowl. He stepped in between the two arguing Autobots, putting a hand on each, pushing them apart, but Prowl's arm shot out, fist balled, swinging past Springer's head.

".Enough." Jazz said through gritted denta. "I'm glad you two are talkin' now, but I'm pretty sure Prime doesn't need to hear about a brawl between his second in command and a subordinate, considering what's goin' on. Springer, back inside your quarters. Prowler, c'mon. You need to cool down, then we can talk."

"What's wrong?" Springer asked. "It's not Rodi, is it?"

"He's fine. Still the same," Jazz said. "I told Ratchet or First Aid to comm you themselves if anything changes. Go get some rest, OK?"

Springer nodded at the Jazz, spared Prowl a glare before going back inside and shutting the door.

"What is going on?" Prowl said. "And you should not have interfered. We were merely having a discussion."

"My aft," Jazz said, dragging his friend down the corridor toward his own quarters. "You were two seconds away from removing his head. What is it between you two anyway?"

Prowl didn't answer, trying instead to change the subject. "Prime's all right, isn't he?"

Jazz shook his head in exasperation as he pulled up in front of the door to his quarters. He entered the access code, shoved Prowl in following.

"Sit," the third in command said. Prowl did as told, frowning, sitting down on the chair by Jazz's desk.

"We've got the beginnings of a situation," Jazz said.

"What kind of situation?" Prowl said.

"The kind you like least," Jazz said.

Prowl shot him a questioning look, leaning forward.

"The emotional kind," Jazz said.


	16. Chapter 16

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Jazz watched Prowl twitch at the mention of the word "emotional." He hoped his friend wouldn't crash by the time he was done telling him what he had to say. That potential problem was an easy fix compared to the predicament currently unfolding on Cybertron.

"A while ago, the city received a transmission from Elita-1 on Cybertron," Jazz said. "She relayed to Ultra Magnus that the Decepticons had found their base, and she and the rest of the female Autobots were going to evacuate and regroup elsewhere. Chromia managed to get a message to us a few minutes ago. Elita never made it to the rendezvous point."

"What's being done?" Prowl asked.

Jazz sighed.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Ultra Magnus already volunteered to take a team to Cybertron. He's just waiting for an answer. All you gotta do is say 'yes' and they're on their way," Jazz said.

88888

A few minutes was all he had. Ultra Magnus cursed Primus and his luck. He still wanted to talk to Arcee, but duty called. More than duty. Because Optimus Prime couldn't go to Cybertron to help with the search for Elita-1, Magnus felt it was his responsibility to go in his friend's place. He owed it to Optimus, as his oldest and dearest friend, to go. Also to Elita. He cared for her as much as he did Optimus. Not to mention what they had all been through together.

The city commander pushed it from his mind as he reached the shuttle prepped for him and his team. He had a job to do.

88888

This evening keeps getting better and better, Ratchet reflected, dropping the data pad in his hands in his haste to reach the one patient currently occupying his med bay. A patient who was trying to sit up. The medic gently settled Hot Rod back onto the berth, glad something was actually going right. "Not so fast, hot shot," Ratchet said. "I'm glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"I hurt all over," Hot Rod said.

"Pain is good. It mean's you're healing," Ratchet said. "More importantly, it means you're alive."

"Anybody get the name of the Decepticon that flattened me?" Hot Rod muttered, struggling once again to sit up, but Ratchet's grip was strong. The medic ignored the comment, checking the tubes connected to each of the young mech's arms, as well as the other lines connected to his frame.

"Almost done," he said, pointing at the second, newer line. "That's the last infusion of nanites."

"Nanites?" Hot Rod asked. "Just how bad was I hurt?"

"Bad enough," Ratchet said, squeezing his shoulder. "Try and get some rest. We'll talk later, if you're feeling up to it. First Aid will look after you while I go looking for that aft-headed Prime of ours."

Hot Rod watched him go, puzzled, settling back on his berth. No point in riling the medic, just this once.


	17. Chapter 17

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime, in some ways, was incredibly predictable, Ratchet reflected as he drove up the switchback leading to the top of Lookout Mountain. Teletraan-1 had confirmed his leader's location as the observation platform, making it easy for the medic to go collect his Prime. Also predictable was the Autobot leader's response to his arrival.

"Go away," Prime said, not sparing Ratchet a look.

"Get off your aft and come with me back to the city," Ratchet replied. "I promise if you go willingly, I won't make you go back to the med bay. You can rest in your quarters."

Ratchet didn't flinch when he heard muttered curses in Cybertronian coming from Prime's direction.

"Cursing me won't make the situation any better," Ratchet said. "C'mon, Prime. I know you're worried about Elita-1, but it's only been a few hours. And if anyone can find her, it's Ultra Magnus."

"Ratchet, I don't need a pep talk. I want to be left alone. Please," Prime said.

Begging. Well, as close to begging as he'd ever see Optimus Prime. Great. Not a good sign. Time to change tactics.

"All right," the medic said, turning to head back to Autobot City.

"What?" Prime said, looking back over his shoulder at the other mech. "You're not going to make me come back with you?"

Ratchet snorted. "When in the Pit have I ever been able to make you do anything against your will?" he said.

"I don't think you want an answer to that question," Prime said.

"No, I don't," Ratchet said. "Look, don't stay out here too long. You do need rest, but I can understand your desire to get away from me and everything else. Just comm me if you need anything."

"That's all?"

"That's all," Ratchet said. "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't," Prime said.

"Well, there is one more thing-a bit of good news," Ratchet said.

"What is it?" Prime asked, reluctant to hear the answer.

"Hot Rod's awake," Ratchet said.

88888

Hot Rod stared at the ceiling, wondering what was going on outside the med bay. He'd asked First Aid about what he'd missed while he was out, but the medic gently and politely deflected his questions, instead trying to convince him to rest, and someone would answer his questions in the morning. Hot Rod could admit patience was not one of his more dominant qualities, but he decided he could wait a few hours.

The young mech perked up when he heard the med bay doors open, hoping it wasn't Ratchet returning. He managed to sit up without First Aid coming to shove him back down, surprised to see Arcee coming inside. The femme gave him a smile, turning her attention to the medic, who stepped out of the office.

"Is it all right if I stay a few minutes?" Arcee said. "Ratchet told me Rodi was awake, but he didn't say if it was OK if I dropped by. . ."

"It's fine," First Aid said. "Just don't stay too long."

He went back inside the office, leaving the other two Autobots to themselves. Arcee sat down on the edge of the berth, giving Hot Rod a hug. She let go, sitting quietly for a few mintues.

"What's wrong?" Hot Rod asked.

"Nothing," Arcee said. "I'm just glad to see you're finally awake."

"'Cee, c'mon, I can tell something's bothering you. You're never at a loss for words. Usually every time I find myself waking up in the med bay you're there to tell me what an aft head I am for getting myself shot up yet again. What is it?"

"Rodi, we can talk about it later," Arcee said. "And for once, be grateful you're not getting a lecture."

He frowned. "Spring hasn't done something stupid, has he? Is everything OK? I mean not just with you, but when I woke up, Ratchet said he was going to look for Optimus."

"Springer is as thick-headed as ever," Arcee said. "I'm surprised he's not here, but considering what an aft he's been the last few days. . .but don't worry about it. He can tell you himself what he's been doing when he bothers to show up, if he even knows you're awake."

"Uh, 'Cee, did something happen between you and Spring? I mean, I know we haven't exactly been discreet about how we both feel about you, but, he's a good bot, my best friend, and you could do a lot worse. . .or better," Hot Rod said, raising an optic ridge in concession. "Considering it's us. . .and it's OK. . ."

"Something did happen, but not with Springer," Arcee said. "But I don't want to talk about that right now, and that's all I'm going to say. I'll tell you tomorrow, about that and everything else that's going on, if you can wait that long."

"Sure," Hot Rod said.

"Good," Arcee said, swiftly kissing him on the lips. "You're a good friend, Rodi. I'll see you tomorrow."

He watched her go, bewildered. What the hell was going on around the city?

0600. His door chime was going off and Springer didn't have to be up and out on patrol for another hour, and he had trouble falling into recharge earlier in the night thanks to his confrontation with Prowl. He rolled off the berth, stomped over to the door, hitting the release, angered to find Prowl. Again.

"What the hell do you want this time? Making sure I'm up and don't miss patrol?" Springer snapped.

"Slag off," Prowl said. "I was just getting off duty and I came to tell you, since no one bothered to tell you last night because of everything else that was going on, that Hot Rod regained consciousness last evening. Bumblebee is willing to take half your shift this morning so you can go see Hot Rod. I'm sorry I can't give you more than that right now, but it's better than nothing."

Springer frowned at the second in command, sighed. "Thanks," he muttered.

Prowl nodded, walking away.


	18. Chapter 18

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Inactivity didn't sit well with Hot Rod, and he knew trying to get up was a bad idea. Instead, he contented himself with watching Ratchet go about his duties, which at the moment, included re-attaching Perceptor's left arm,the appendage missing from the elbow down. The medic was using language that would impress Kup, Hot Rod mused. Still early, and the day was off to a fantastic start.

Both Hot Rod and Ratchet looked over when the med bay doors slid open. Ratchet frowned, kept on working. Hot Rod smiled when he saw who it was.

"Glad to see you finally decided to wake up," Springer said, arms crossed, lips turned up in his trademark wry grin.

Hot Rod snorted.

"Seriously Rodi, you scared the hell out of me," Springer said, now serious. "Don't cut things so close next time."

"I didn't mean to," Hot Rod said. "It was either me or Optimus."

"Yeah, well, Prime's important and all, but he's not my best friend," Springer said, sitting down on the edge of the berth,giving his friend an awkward hug. He let him go, then looked around.

"Hey, have you seen Arcee?" Springer asked. "Figured she'd be here hanging around, since you got yourself hurt again."

"Yeah, Spring, we need to have a talk about that," Hot Rod said.

"Nothing to talk about," Springer said. "You've made it pretty clear you're not interested, so. . ."

Hot Rod vented air, sighing. "Spring, can we not talk about that now? I haven't seen you in days, and last night Arcee said you've been an aft lately. Must be more than usual if she's passing it along. What did you do this time?" he asked.

Springer shrugged.

"Nothing that can't wait a while to talk about. Prowl's still driving me nuts," he said.

Hot Rod raised an optic ridge. "You sure it isn't the other way around?"

"Tight-aft deserves what he gets," Springer said.

Hot Rod considered taking up the matter of Springer's grudge with the second in command, but decided tackling it later was a safer option. So was the issue of Arcee. He still didn't know what had happened the night before in the city. Maybe he could change the subject and get answers at the same time.

"Spring, nobody will talk to me about anything that's been going on since I woke up. What happened last night?" Hot Rod said.

"Something happened on Cybertron. I've heard a rumor or two that it involves the female Autobots. Ultra Magnus left last night with a team to go check things out. I don't know much more than that," Springer said.

88888

Cybertron

Ultra Magnus surveyed the damage before him. What a day before had been the female Autobots' base was now a ruin. Thankfully, all of femmes but Elita-1 were accounted for. They were all helping with the search for their leader, along with the rest of his team from Earth. Among that number was Ironhide, who wouldn't let Chromia out of his sight. A reprimand was waiting for the the older mech when he had a moment to talk to him. Ironhide had gone against his suggestion to go out on his own, and Ultra Magnus had earned himself a scathing glare from the other Autobot when he mentioned he would know if anything happened to Chromia through their bond. The city commander knew Ironhide and Chromia would carry out their duties.

One reason why he frowned up on fraternization in the Autobot ranks. Attachment was a distraction. Distraction could lead to dereliction of duty, which meant someone could get hurt or killed. That was why he never became involved with anyone. But after his short time on Earth, he was starting to understand why Optimus allowed those under his command to form relationships. It helped with morale, and gave the ranks a stability that wasn't there before. Also, it reminded everyone what was waiting for them after the war was over.

But that was the future. He had a job to do, and someone was pinging his personal comm. He could worry about the rules later.


	19. Chapter 19

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

He was supposed to be resting in his quarters, but Optimus Prime couldn't shake his restlessness. Doing laps around the city wasn't helping his mood or his insomnia, so he decided to go to the med bay and check up on Hot Rod. It was the least he could do, but he hoped Ratchet wasn't there. And the medic wasn't, he was surprised to see instead First Aid on duty, and Hot Rod was indeed awake also, instead of recharging.

"Prime, how are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you?" the young medic asked.

"I came to see Hot Rod, if that's all right," Optimus said.

"Go ahead," First Aid said, retreating into the office.

A few silent moments passed before Optimus spoke.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Better," Hot Rod said. "Except Ratchet said it'll be a while yet before I get out of here."

"And less chance for you to cause any mischief for a while longer," Optimus said, his tone dry. "Although I am impressed with your duty record these past few weeks."

"Well. . .if I work hard, keep my head down and do my job, it keeps Kup and Magnus off my back," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe you're finally starting to live up to that potential those two are always talking about," Optimus said.

Hot Rod snorted. "I don't know about that," he said. "But thank you for thinking so."

"It is I who should be thanking you," Optimus said. "I owe you my gratitude, for what you did back on Cybertron."

"No thanks needed," Hot Rod answered. "From what I hear, I should be thanking you. You hauled me out of the tunnels."

"I never expect any one of my Autobots to put their life on the line to save _me_," Optimus said.

"Then how about we call it even?" Hot Rod said, throwing his leader his trademark grin.

"Agreed," Optimus said, awkwardly patting the younger mech on the shoulder. "You should try and get some rest."

"Sure thing," Hot Rod said, hoping he didn't sound to perky. So, he'd finally gotten the Prime to notice him. Just a little. But who was he kidding? He didn't stand a chance in hell with Optimus Prime, mech who was all but bonded already. He vented air in a sigh. Well, if he couldn't have what he wanted, he could at least dedicate himself to his duties, and he still had his friends. It was more than what he had back on Cybertron, and wasn't that all that mattered?

88888

Springer was camped out in the rec room, waiting for Arcee to drop by. She would be off duty any minute, and he'd traded a shift with Bumblebee so he could try and spend some time with the femme and Hot Rod before heading back to the Ark. He'd be pulling a double shift himself later, but that was fine with the triple changer. If it would keep him off Prowl's radar, then so much the better. Jazz approved the switch, even commended him for trying to be more dedicated to his duty.

Yeah, whatever, Springer thought. Maybe Hot Rod was on to something with the whole trying to follow the rules thing. He would give it a try and see how things went. Maybe Arcee would notice he was trying to be more responsible? He took a sip of energon, checking his internal chronometer. Twenty minutes past Arcee's duty shift. Huh. Maybe she wasn't going to follow her usual routine. He got up, heading for the med bay to see Hot Rod. As usual, Ratchet grumbled when Springer entered the med bay, but left him alone with Hot Rod so they could talk.

"You finally manage to get some rest?" Springer asked.

"Some earlier today," Hot Rod said. "It's hard to rest when I itch from my armor plating that's growing back."

"That's a tiny price to pay for being alive," Springer said.

"I know," Hot Rod said.

"Have you seen Arcee today?" Springer asked.

"She came by this morning," Hot Rod said. "If you want to see her, why don't you go look for her? You probably should anyway. I think you two need to talk."

"Why?" Springer asked.

"It's not my place to say," Hot Rod said. There. Now Springer knew he needed to talk to the femme, and he hadn't given away the reason why. Springer needed to hear it from Arcee, and not anyone else.

"Something going on between you two?" Springer said.

"Hardly," Hot Rod said.

Springer frowned at Hot Rod, but then the two friends watched the med bay doors slide open, revealing Arcee. She stopped when she saw Springer, turned around, walking away.

"What the hell was that about?" Springer said, standing.

"Spring, maybe I was wrong, and you shouldn't go after her," Hot Rod said. "She'll come to you when she's ready."

"What are you not telling me?" Springer said, turning on Hot Rod.

"Trust me, OK?" Hot Rod said. "Please."

Springer's anger turned to confusion, but he sat back down. "All right," he said. "You're just damn lucky you're off your feet right now."


	20. Chapter 20

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Cybertron

Missing Arcee did nothing for Ultra Magnus' mood. Nor was the knowledge they could not find Elita-1. Telling Optimus. . .even worse. He vented air in a sigh, watching his team pack up. The remaining female Autobots refused to return to Earth with them. Chromia was taking command, and currently arguing with Ironhide, who was begging his bondmate to come with him.

Magnus watched the two for a few moments, a crestfallen Ironhide finally making his way over.

"I can't change Chromia's mind," Ironhide said. "She said they'll find Elita, and they've got a safe place to hide."

"I can order them to come with us," Magnus said.

"You know it won't work," Ironhide said. "Let's go."

He headed for the shuttle, Ultra Magnus following, dreading the return to Earth, and telling Optimus the news.

Earth, two days later

Ultra Magnus and the others disembarked the shuttle, surprised to find Prowl and Arcee waiting for him. The femme hung back so Prowl could talk to Magnus.

"Any luck?" Prowl asked.

"We couldn't find her," Magnus said.

Prowl shuttered his optics. "Does Optimus know yet?"

"No," Magnus said. "I can tell him."

Prowl sighed. Nobody wanted to be the one to tell Optimus Prime the news.

"I'll do it," Prowl said.

"You don't have to, Prowl," Magnus said.

"It's bad enough you volunteered to go to Cybertron, so the least I can do is shoulder this burden," Prowl said. "Besides, you shouldn't keep Arcee waiting. Get your report finished as soon as you can, within reason. I'll pass it along to Optimus."

"How is he?" Magnus asked.

"Out of the med bay," Prowl said.

"And Hot Rod?"

Prowl gave Magnus a slight smile. "Awake, and driving Ratchet mad," he said.

"That's good to hear," Magnus said.

"I know," Prowl said, turning away. He nodded at Arcee as he passed the femme.

Once they were alone on the landing pad, Arcee slipped her arms around Magnus. "I'm glad you're back," she said.

Magnus kissed her. "I'm glad to be back," he said. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"C'mon. Let's go get some energon," Arcee said. "I don't have to be on duty until this afternoon, and I can fill you in in the rest."

88888

Hot Rod watched Ratchet grab his repair kit. "Optimus is meeting with Prowl, and because Spike is going to help us dig Wheeljack out of the lab, somebody needs to watch Daniel," Ratchet said. "That would be you. Optimus is waiting with Daniel in the rec room. I'm letting you out of here long enough to do just that. That's all you have to do-sit in the rec room and watch movies with Daniel."

"Daniel-as in the sparkling human?" Hot Rod said.

"Yes, Daniel, Spike and Carly's seven-year-old son," Ratchet said. "Get going."

Hot Rod stood.

"Take it slow," Ratchet said. "It'll do you some good to get out and do something."

The young mech made his way to the rec room, where he found the human child playing video games on the big screen. Optimus was standing off to the side with Prowl.

:If anything happens to Daniel, you will answer to me: Optimus commed.

Hot Rod shuddered. :Nothing will happen to the kid:

Optimus didn't look so sure, but he left with Prowl. And seconds later, Hot Rod received another comm, this time from Springer.

:Prowl is meeting with Prime, and he said if I can 'behave myself,' I can come visit you. Where are you?: Springer asked.

:Rec room. Baby-sitting: Hot Rod said.

:Baby-sitting. You mean sparkling-sitting?: Springer asked, incredulous.

Moments later, Springer came swaggering into the rec room, glancing from his friend to Daniel, who was busy playing his game.

"I didn't volunteer," Hot Rod said. "More like conscripted."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was the one that got picked to watch the kid when they realized they needed somebody," Hot Rod said.

"Pretty domestic, Rodi. Didn't know you had it in you," Springer said. "Slagger."

Daniel looked up, picking up on the triple changer's sarcasm.

"My mom says. . ."

"Stow it, squishee," Springer said.

". . .if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all," Daniel finished.

"What's a squishee?" Daniel said.

"You if you don't shut up, kid," Springer said. And then he felt a strong grip on his shoulder. He turned around.

"Daniel is not a squishee," Prowl said. "You however, will be when I'm done. I'm returning to the Ark. Hot Rod, stay here with Daniel until his father comes to collect him. Kup is with Optimus right now, and will explain things later. Springer, you can stay here with Hot Rod, or return with me. The choice is yours, but be back before your patrol shift starts tonight."

Springer didn't answer, watching Prowl leave.

"Tight-aft," Springer muttered.

"Not in front of the kid," Hot Rod said.

"Whatever," Springer said. "Have fun, you two. I'm going to look for Arcee."

Daniel was no longer interested in his game. He was staring up at Hot Rod. "Who was that?" he asked.

"My best friend Springer," Hot Rod said.

"He's not very nice," Daniel said.

"Usually he is," Hot Rod said. "Hey-how do you play this game?"

Daniel proceeded to explain, and Hot Rod listened. Baby-sitting wasn't so bad after all.


	21. Chapter 21

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Seeing Arcee with Ultra Magnus wasn't out of the ordinary. But what was unusual was how close the mech was sitting to the femme, and when Arcee kissed Magnus, Springer stopped, stunned. He stared a few seconds before turning away and heading out of the rec room.

"Springer. . ." Arcee called, starting after the triple changer, but Magnus stopped her.

"Arcee, don't," he said. "You made your choice. He'll have to accept that."

"I didn't want him to find out like this," Arcee said.

"At least he knows," Magnus said, squeezing her hand. "Have you told Hot Rod?"

"He knows I chose someone," Arcee said.

"And he's all right with it?" Magnus asked.

"He took it well," she said. "But I figured he would. He has his optics on someone else."

Magnus frowned. That was interesting news, but he chose not to comment. Instead, he chose to reassure Arcee.

"Springer will be all right," he said.

"I hope so," Arcee said.

88888

Kup didn't get to meet with Optimus, and Prowl didn't get to return to the Ark as quickly as he hoped. Instead, he was looking for Springer, who'd picked a fight with Sunstreaker, and trashed a portion of one of the city's rec room. Prowl knew the reason for Springer's sudden lack of self-control, but didn't enlighten anyone who asked. He would deal with Springer when he caught up with him. And Ratchet had volunteered to inform Optimus of Elita-1 status. The second in command decided he would have to do something to thank Ratchet. But that was something to consider later.

88888

Hot Rod was sitting on the floor by Daniel, listening to the boy talk. He asked questions, which Daniel answered, which lead to more questions. Hot Rod was being incredibly patient with the human child.

"No, you're doing it wrong," Daniel said.

"I think I know how to drive," Hot Rod retorted.

"But this is a _game_," Daniel said.

"When Hatchet clears me, I'll take you for a real drive," Hot Rod said.

"I'll have to ask my dad," Daniel said.

"You'll need my permission as well," Optimus said, stepping inside. "Daniel doesn't need to be exposed to anything dangerous."

Hot Rod snorted. "The Decepticons could attack at any minute," he said. "He's at ground zero for dangerous right now."

"Daniel is an impressionable seven-year-old human child," Optimus said.

Hot Rod and Daniel both looked at the Autobot leader as if he'd grown another head. Optimus sighed. It figured Daniel would hit it off with the one Autobot who had the maturity level of a human child.

"What's 'impressionable' mean?" Daniel asked.

"It means you're smart, so I'll have to be careful around you," Hot Rod said, sidestepping the issue.

:I know how to behave myself around a sparkling: Hot Rod said, comming his leader so Daniel wouldn't hear.

:As if you've been around many sparklings: Optimus retorted.

:Like you have?: Hot Rod asked, picking up Daniel as he stood, perching the child on his shoulder.

"C'mon kiddo, let's go see if Kup will tell you one of his stories," Hot Rod said.

Optimus glared at the young mech as he passed by, only to be greeted by Ratchet once Hot Rod was out of earshot.

."Are you done flirting?" Ratchet asked, arms crossed.

"I was not flirting," Optimus said.

"Could have fooled me," Ratchet said. "I was looking for you. We need to talk."

"About?" Optimus asked, crossing his arms, optics narrowing in suspicion.

"Something you need to hear," Ratchet said. "Preferably in private. We can talk in your office."

Optimus frowned, but lead the medic to his office. He went inside, sat down, waiting for Ratchet to make himself comfortable.

"What is this about?" he asked.

"Elita-1," Ratchet said.

The look in Optimus' optics suddenly became neutral. Not good, Ratchet reflected.

"Prowl was going to tell you, but he had urgent business to attend, so I volunteered to tell you," Ratchet said. "Ultra Magnus and the others were unable to locate Elita-1, but the rest of her unit is continuing the search."

Ratchet waited, watching and hoping for some kind of reaction.

"I should have gone," Optimus said.

"Your presence wouldn't have changed anything," Ratchet said.

"You don't know that," Optimus countered.

"No, but does it matter?" Ratchet asked. "I know you're concerned, and you have every right to be, but remember, Elita made her choice, and so did you. Nothing can change that."

"But. . ."

"You feel responsible," Ratchet said. It wasn't Optimus' fault. How could he make Optimus see that?

"I am her mate," Optimus said.

Ratchet sighed. "But you haven't been on the best of terms, have you? Did anything happen with Elita when you were last on Cybertron?

"She threw me out of her quarters."

"Is that an unusual occurrence?" Ratchet said.

Prime hesitated. Was it really any of the medic's business? But he answered anyway.

"She welcomed my company less and less," Optimus said. "So it was not unusual for her to ask me to leave."

He felt guilty because he was stuck on Earth while another looked for Elita-1 in his place. Understandable, Ratchet thought. However, guilt and an impetuous Prime added up to stupid behavior.

"I hope you won't go charging off to Cybertron to rescue her," Ratchet said. "You're in no condition for combat, or to be running around digging through wreckage."

Optimus slumped in his chair.

"You need to rest," Ratchet said. "But knowing you, that's the last thing you'll do. You can resume some of your duties, but nothing on the front line."

He hoped the concession would be enough to give Optimus back some of his fire.

"You're restricting me to a desk," Optimus said

"Call it what you like," Ratchet said. "You're always saying there isn't enough time to take care of everything, so I'm giving you a chance to catch up with your administrative duties."

"Thanks," Optimus said. "Are you finished?"

"Yes," Ratchet said. "Don't overdo it."

"You won't let me," Optimus muttered.

"Damn straight," Ratchet said. "I know you're worried about Elita, and I will clear you as soon as I can for active duty, but you need a few more days to mend."

"Thank you, Ratchet," Optimus said.

88888

Springer wasn't hiding in any of his usual haunts. He hadn't showed up for duty that evening, nor had Hot Rod, Blurr or Kup had any contact with the triple changer since he'd left the city. He wasn't in his quarters, and Prowl was ready to give up his search. He detoured to his office for a moment, deciding to refuel there and go over a few reports before heading out again. Except to his surprise, he found Springer slumped against his desk, surrounded by empty high grade cubes.

Hauling the unsuspecting triple changer to his feet, Prowl started dragging him toward the door, and the brig.

"Figured it would take you a while to find me," Springer said, struggling weakly against Prowl's grip. "You have no idea how easy it was to get in here."

"You have a long list of offenses to answer for," Prowl said, choosing a safer reply.

"Being an aft is probably at the top of the list," Springer said.

"I concur," Prowl said.

"I owe Arcee an apology," Springer said. "Won't lessen the sting, but it's the right thing to do."

"You should not have to apologize for your feelings," Prowl said.

Springer snorted. "Whatever," he said. "I was blind and stupid. Should've seen she was interested in someone else."

Prowl didn't have a reply for that. Hearing honesty from Springer was new, but the circumstances were less than ideal.

"You can let go," Springer said. "I'll go quietly. I can admit I deserve a stay in the brig for my behavior lately. I promise I won't make a break for it. There is nowhere to hide."

Prowl stopped, releasing his hold on the other mech.

"I have your word?"

"Yes," Springer said, studying the other Autobot's face. Maybe it was the high grade, or desperation, but Springer couldn't help notice Prowl wasn't a bad-looking mech. A tight-aft, but not unattractive. And he knew he'd probably get his aft handed to him for what he was about to do. Springer reached out, running a hand along the underside of one of Prowl's doors. The other mech's intakes hitched, but he didn't move. He again touched the Prowl, and both door wings quivered, although from what emotion, Springer wasn't sure. Anger that he had the audacity to touch him, or pleasure. Prowl's optics suggested a mixture of both.

Hands slid down his back, grabbing his aft. Springer smirked, seeing the look on Prowl's face.

"What makes you think I would interface with you?" Prowl asked.

"I'll stop if you want me to," Springer said, suddenly capturing the second in command's lips with his own.

Prowl pinned his wrists over his head, grinding his frame against Springer's, kissing the triple changer, taking control of the situation. He was going to teach him a lesson. . .


	22. Chapter 22

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Prowl wasted no time, backing Springer up against the wall, the other mech's arms still pinned. He struggled against Prowl, wanting to be free to touch the second in command. Prowl relinquished his grip, and suddenly had Springer's deft hands finding seams in his armor and tweaking wires, spots that had not been touched by anyone but a medic in a very long time.

Kisses down the center of his chest over his spark helped Prowl push away the thought that maybe his desire to teach Springer lesson was a bad idea. He was losing control over the situation, and he _never_ lost control. Except he found his armor parting, Springer's spark meeting his own. And the force of Springer's mind exploded against his own. He tried to push back, prolong the contact between them, make a meaningful connection, but overload took them both, and they collapsed to the floor together.

88888

Hot Rod sat in the med bay, attempting to read a data pad, while Ratchet complained to First Aid about the stupidity of the mechs under his care. However, he stopped when Arcee entered.

"Don't stay too late," Ratchet said, retreating to his office, dragging First Aid with him.

"What's up?" Hot Rod asked.

"Have you seen Springer?" Arcee said.

"Not since earlier," Hot Rod said. "Why?"

"I need to talk to him," Arcee said.

"About?" Hot Rod said.

"It's not important," Arcee said, not wanting to worry Hot Rod.

"He'll probably be back tomorrow," Hot Rod said. "You can see him then."

Arcee gave Hot Rod a forced smile, squeezing him on the shoulder, leaving him alone. What the hell was going on?

88888

Springer woke, noticing immediately everything was not right. For starters, he was on the floor. Secondly, tangled with another frame. A black and white, door-winged frame holding tightly to his own. He went to pull away, but the other mech's grip on him tightened.

He hadn't spent the night with Prowl. Certainly not. But the memory was there. Several, actually. 'Facing Prowl. _Spark-merging_ with Prowl. And he was OK with it. More than OK, actually. For the moment. How the SIC would react. . .They were in Prowl's office. Even better, Springer noted. He sighed.

"Prowl, wake up," he said, trying to disengage himself from the other mech.

"Wha. . ."

Springer moved to the side as Prowl sat up, grabbing his head, as if he was in pain.

"What in the slagging Pit happened last night?"

"Do you not remember?" Springer asked, hopeful.

"I remember," Prowl said, standing, offering Springer a hand. "And you're late for duty, and I have a meeting with Jazz in five minutes."

"But. . ."

"We'll talk about what happened later," Prowl said.

"You're not angry?"

"What is there to be angry about?" Prowl said.

Springer didn't know what to think. Prowl was cool and logical, but this calm. . .unnerving. The triple changer didn't know if that bothered him more than his own personal reaction-how all right he was with the situation. But he'd been overcharged. He'd panic later. He stood, legs wobbly, walking from the office.

Outside, Jazz watched the triple changer leave Prowl's office. Strange.

The third in command let himself into the office. "Prowler, what is going on?"

"Later," Prowl said, picking up a data pad, ending Jazz's inquiry.

"Whatever," Jazz said. "We'll talk about it later."

88888

Eight excruciating hours on monitor duty, and Springer was left to his own devices. No one said he couldn't, so he made his way to the city, wanting to see Hot Rod. He sprung his friend, dragging him to the rec room, only to grab Hot Rod and pull him back down the corridor when he saw Arcee and Ultra Magnus sitting together.

"What is wrong with you?" Hot Rod asked, pulling his arm out of Springer's grip.

"Tell me you don't know?" Springer said, arms crossed.

"Know what? I know you're being bigger aft than usual," Hot Rod said. "But what else is new?"

"You honestly do not know?" Springer said. "About Arcee and Magnus?"

Hot Rod's jaw dropped. He knew the femme had chosen someone, not either of them, but _Magnus_?

"So you didn't," Springer said.

"I knew she'd picked someone, but. . ."

"Yeah," Springer said. "At least you didn't find out like I did."

Uh oh.

"I saw them kissing yesterday," Springer said.

"Spring, I'm so sorry," Hot Rod said.

"Doesn't matter," Springer said. "It's over and done."

88888

Jazz ambushed Prowl outside his quarters. He'd been patient all day, waiting, and now he was going to wring answers from his best friend.

"Hey, Prowler, is there something you'd like to tell me?" Jazz drawled, watching Prowl enter his door code.

"Don't you have something productive to do?" Prowl said, entering his quarters.

"This is me being productive," Jazz said. "Something finally happen between you and Springer?"

"Nothing you need to know about," Prowl said, evading the question.

"My aft," Jazz said. "I saw him leaving your office this morning, looking more than a little dazed and sideways. You fragged each other senseless, didn't you?"

Prowl frowned. "What would give you that idea?"

"Oh, I don't know, the sparks that fly when you're together, and the perpetual state of worked up and denial you're in when it comes to Springer," Jazz said.

Frag. Jazz did have a point, but he was only worked up about Springer when it involved rule breakage and disregard for duty.

"You're mistaken," Prowl said.

"No, I'm dead-on and you're in denial," Jazz said. "Did something happen or not?"

Prowl sighed. He did not want Jazz on his case about the matter, so he answered the question. Sort of. He wasn't going to lie outright.

"Something may have happened last night, but your interest in the prurient details of personal life is unhealthy, Jazz. Are things not going well with Sideswipe?" Prowl said.

"Things with Sides are just fine," Jazz said. "I just hope you're not making a mistake when it comes to Springer. Find me when you feel like talking."

Prowl watched him go, thinking. His only mistake was a lapse in judgment.


	23. Chapter 23

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Springer wasn't paying much attention to the conversation between Ratchet and Hot Rod. But he listened anyway, anything to distract himself from thinking about the night before. Sparring match was more like it, and Hatchet was winning. Rodi was bargaining for his release from the med bay. The medic countered all the other mech's reasons, but Springer wondered why Rodi even tried. Ratchet always won. Bargaining could be done with First Aid. He would compromise, up to a point, but he wouldn't give in. Those days were long over. He was learning from his mentor, but he was a good medic, and a good mech. Ratchet was showing a lot of patience in teaching the younger medic, and dealing with Hot Rod. Then again, Springer figured, Ratchet would have to have the patience of Primus to deal with his responsibilities, and the Autobots who ended up in his care. Ratchet obviously had a soft spot for hard luck cases, or otherwise, he wouldn't be courting Wheeljack.

The conversation lapsed when the med bay doors parted, revealing Optimus Prime. And Springer couldn't miss how Rodi's optics lit up at the sight of the Autobot leader. He looked from his friend, to the Prime, and back to Rodi. What in the Pit?

Hot Rod's diatribe with Ratchet ended when Optimus walked over to his berth.

"How are you feeling?" Optimus asked.

"Well enough to get out of here," Hot Rod said.

"Just because you feel fine doesn't mean you are," Ratchet said. "Your wounds are healing, and you're getting stronger, but you'll get out of here when I say you're ready."

"Can't he leave for a while and come back? I thought that was working," Optimus said.

"It is, when I don't have to come looking for him," Ratchet said. "I'll let him out if Springer will bring him back in a while."

"Define a 'while,'" Hot Rod said.

"A stroll around the city, or talking the rec room, long enough for something like that," Ratchet said.

"A couple of hours then," Springer said.

"Yes," Ratchet said. "Go."

Hot Rod stood, and followed Springer out of the med bay.

"Younglings," Ratchet muttered, turning his attention to his Prime. "Sit down."

Optimus did as told, taking a seat, while Ratchet scanned his own healing wounds.

"Almost healed completely," he said. "You'll be back on active duty in a day or two."

"What about Hot Rod?"

"Out of the med bay by the end of the week, a few days off, and depending on how well he's healed, light duty or full duty," Ratchet said. "Although light duty might be the better option. He can help Kup, or watch monitors."

"He'll find a way to get himself in trouble," Optimus said.

"Not if he wants to get himself declared unfit for duty," Ratchet said. "And I don't want you encouraging any hijinks."

"Hijinks? I would never. . ." Optimus said.

"Never? You're a rash one sometimes," Ratchet said. "You just hide it better than any of the others. Who was it I had to talk out of running off to Cybertron not too long ago?"

Optimus stared at the floor.

"Sorry to bring it up, but it is something we need to talk about," Ratchet said. "I know you're worried about Elita, but we need to finish the discussion we started about the difficulties you're having."

"It's nothing," Optimus said. "Can we talk about it later?"

Ratchet frowned. He was not going to relent. Optimus would rather face down the entire Decepticon army by himself than discuss his emotions.

"You have two options-a discussion now, with me, or counseling sessions with Smokescreen and First Aid," Ratchet said. "Smokey is good with handling issues like you're facing, and I think it would be perfect opportunity Aid to enhance his counseling skills."

"I am not going to be a guinea pig," Optimus said.

"Good," Ratchet said, pulling up a chair. "Why have you been having problems with Elita?"

"I don't know," Optimus said, shrugging. "Possibly because of the same issue we've had since we discovered the other was alive-she thinks I've placed more importance on protecting Earth and the war than liberating Cybertron."

"So it's a difference in ideology rather than anything personal?" Ratchet asked.

"Doubtful," Optimus said. "We've come to an agreement regarding our priorities as leaders, but personally, I believe we have, as the humans say, 'drifted apart.'"

"What are you going to do about it?" Ratchet said.

"Try and work through it, when she's found, if that's what she wants," Optimus said.

"That's nice of you to consider what Elita wants, but what about what you want?" Ratchet said. "Have you considered that?"

Optimus raised an optic ridge. No, he hadn't considered that.

"Maybe you should," Ratchet said.

88888

Springer dragged Hot Rod down the corridor, and outside, into an empty courtyard. He wanted to make sure no one heard what he was about to say. It would be embarrassing for Rodi if anyone heard.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Springer asked, crossing his arms, watching as Hot Rod sat down.

"What?" Hot Rod said.

"Those googly-optics at Optimus Prime," Springer said. "Do you really think he'll let you under his plating? C'mon Rodi, are you delusional? He's the Prime, and he's spoken for."

"Lay off, Spring," Hot Rod said.

"You'll just end up making a fool of yourself," Springer said.

"And you haven't over Arcee?"

"We both did," Springer said. "But you hadn't said anything about her in a long time. Now I know why."

"And you couldn't see what was right in front of you," Hot Rod said, standing.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Springer snapped. "Are you talking about Arcee?"

"Figure it out for yourself," Hot Rod said. He had been interested in Arcee. Very much so. But his interest waned when he realized her affections were centered elsewhere, and when she had asked why he hadn't been doing stupid things trying to impress her. Instead, she'd been impressed with his dedication to duty, and show of maturity. That stopped him in his tracks, and since, their relationship was more like brother and sister than pursuer and pursuee. Unfortunately, this all took place without Springer's knowledge, because of his extended stay at the Ark. Hot Rod treasured the knowledge she did love him, in her own way, and it guaranteed him a place in her life. Now if only he could get Springer to see that.

"She can't be serious about Magnus," Springer said.

"Now who's delusional?" Hot Rod said. "Don't do anything you'll regret, Spring. This is Arcee we're talking about. If you care for her, don't hurt her."

"Rodi, it's a little late to be talking about who hurt who," Springer said. "Nothing like getting your spark ripped out. She could've at least been honest, instead of letting us keep making fools out of ourselves. . ."

"Who, Spring," Hot Rod said. "It's over and done. No changing it. She's still your friend. Don't forget that. Doesn't that count for something?"

Springer was trying to wrap his processor around Hot Rod as the voice of reason, but he did have a point. A very valid one. Having Arcee as a friend was better than not having her at all. But that didn't mean he was going to be easy on Ultra Magnus. At least not for a while.

"It does," Springer said. "C'mon. Let's go see what Kup is up to."

88888

Optimus sat at a table in the rec room with Prowl. His second in command was enjoying a rare night off, choosing to spend it at the city instead of the Ark. Jazz was probably spending the evening with Sideswipe, leaving Prowl with two choices-face Ratchet's wrath for overworking himself again, or socialize. Prowl was talking about how well Sunstreaker was getting on with Bluestreak-idle chatter for the tactician. Not unusual, but noteworthy. But what was unusual was how Prowl's door wings stiffened slightly when Springer entered the room, taking a seat at Hot Rod's table with his friend, Blurr and Bumblebee. Prowl shot a barely-contained angry look Springer's way, and excused himself.

"Optimus, I have to go," Prowl said. "I have some reports I have to finish. . ."

And he walked out, leaving a puzzled Optimus in his wake. He vented air. Being out of commission a few days, and he was already out of the loop. He'd be back on active duty in a few days. Ratchet was always saying he needed to spend more time socializing, getting to know his troops, making himself more accessible to those he lead. So he got up, going over to Hot Rod's table.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

Bumblebee smiled, Springer glared and Hot Rod nearly choked on his energon. Interesting reactions from the two, but he was well versed in their unpredictability and volatility. Likely Springer already knew of Arcee and Ultra Magnus, which accounted for the attitude. But Hot Rod's flustered behavior, that was new. Now that he thought about it, and had the time to really notice, Hot Rod was attractive. And he squelched that thought. All right. He could admit Hot Rod was aesthetically pleasing, and a decent mech, now that he'd gotten to know him better. Possibly they could build up a friendship. Yes. That was acceptable.

"Hey Optimus, anything wrong?" Bumblebee asked.

"No, just thinking," Optimus said. "How are things at the Ark?"

"Fine," Bumblebee said. "Prowl's been a little distracted all day, but that's nothing new, considering." He was looking at Springer when he said it. Hoping the mech got the message. Lay off Prowl, or else.

"Gotta go," Springer said, standing. "See you later."


	24. Chapter 24

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Springer's departure after Prowl set off warning bells in Bumblebee's head. So did the sparks and looks passing between Optimus Prime and Hot Rod, but of a different kind. The good kind. Still no word on Elita-1's status. However, Bumblebee, like everyone else, knew Optimus and the femme were having problems. Time for a break, he figured. Except the only one who couldn't see it was Optimus. Bumblebee hoped for Optimus' sake the femme was all right, but they both deserved better than holding on to something whose time had passed. So the minibot decided to do what he could to help things along.

"I have to be getting back to the Ark," Bumblebee said, standing to go. "Good night."

Optimus watched him leave, considering going himself, but it would be rude to leave Hot Rod all alone. Then again, he didn't have anywhere to be himself, so he decided to enjoy the chance to get to know one of his fellow Autobots.

"It seems everyone but us has somewhere to be but here," Optimus said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "Weird being off duty for so long, you know?"

"Indeed," Optimus said. "I'll be back on active duty in a day or two, so I'm going to enjoy what time off I have left. You should too."

"I'm trying," Hot Rod said. "It's hard when Ratchet won't let me do anything."

"I could try talking to him for you," Optimus said.

"Good luck," Hot Rod said.

"Worth a try," Optimus said, deciding to change the subject. "Have Springer and Prowl worked out their differences?"

"I have no idea," Hot Rod said. "I apologize for Springer though. He's had a lot on his mind lately, and usually he isn't so rude."

"No apology is needed," Optimus said. "I take it he knows about Arcee and Ultra Magnus?"

"Yeah," Hot Rod said, staring down at his energon.

"I know you had feelings for her as well," Optimus said.

"I did, but it's changed, you know?" Hot Rod said. "We're better off as friends."

"Springer didn't react well to Arcee's choice?"

"That's an understatement," Hot Rod said. "Spring and I were pretty obvious, weren't we? No wonder she chose someone else."

"At least you're still friends," Optimus said.

"I told Springer that-Arcee still wants us in her life," Hot Rod said. "It's better than nothing."

"You're lucky," Optimus said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "Elita-1 didn't seem too happy with you when we saw her on Cybertron. . ."

It was Optimus' turn to stare at his energon. Bonding with a new recruit over mutual relationship problems. Definitely new and uncharted territory. Usually it was Ironhide or Kup listening to his problems when he bothered opening up. Wait-was he really _bonding_ with Hot Rod? Yes. Talking. The humans called it "hitting it off." But were they?

"Sorry to bring it up," Hot Rod said.

"It's all right," Optimus said. "Magnus is heading back to Cybertron in a few days. Maybe Chromia and the others will have some good news."

Hot Rod never had a chance to reply, because Ratchet entered the rec room, making straight for him. The medic hauled the young mech from his chair, dragging him toward the med bay.

"I said I'd let you out for a couple of hours-not all fragging night," Ratchet said.

"It's not that late," Hot Rod countered.

"We'll talk about this later," Ratchet said, glancing back at Optimus.

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Springer stared up at the ceiling. He hadn't made it back to the Ark like he should've. Instead, he was lying in his berth, in his quarters, in Autobot City. Where he was not supposed to be. His scheduled patrol wasn't for hours yet, so he had time. Except he could not explain his present circumstances. Prowl's head was pillowed on his shoulder, door wings rising and falling gently with the steady venting of air from the other mech. The second in command's left arm was draped across his middle, and his left leg was thrown across Springer's own. He couldn't move without waking Prowl. Not that he wanted to move. It felt good having someone in his arms, even if it was Prowl.

The Autobot second in command. Springer knew he was playing with fire. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought. But he couldn't help himself. He never backed down from a challenge, but he was feeling guilty. Was he using Prowl to get over the loss of Arcee, or was all the animosity between himself and the second in command covering an unconscious attraction? No, couldn't be. He wasn't that desperate. Then again, maybe he was the one being used.

88888

Optimus Prime exited his quarters, wishing for the chance to get some energon and more recharge, but he wasn't getting it any time soon. Ultra Magnus was leaving early for Cybertron, and he was going to see his friend and his team off. Then there was the urgent comm he'd received from Jazz, asking if he'd seen Prowl. No, he had not. It wasn't even time for Prowl to be on shift. It was 0635. Any sensible mech would be recharging if they weren't on the night shift. He wished _he_ was. However, something about the fact Jazz had commed him was nagging the Prime. Jazz probably had a good reason. He'd deal with it later.

Rounding a corner, Optimus headed for Kup's quarters. He would walk his old friend to the shuttle, and discuss a few things before Kup left for Cybertron. Like who would be assigned to the ancient mech's unit once he took over as Autobot City security director. Kup had asked for an assistant, but maybe more than one Autobot was a better idea.

Reaching Kup's quarters, he hit the chime, waiting. A couple of doors down, someone exited one of the rooms, and Optimus looked down, curious as to who was up so early. He raised an optic ridge in interest, seeing Springer leaving his quarters. The triple changer was supposed to be staying at the Ark until further notice. Then a second mech exited. Prowl. The Autobot leader was lucky his battle mask covered his surprise when his second in command kissed Springer. He watched as the two broke apart, walking down the corridor together. Optimus didn't notice Kup's door open, or the ancient mech watching him, arms crossed.

"Your optics are gonna pop out of your head," Kup said. "What's the matter?"

"Huh?" Optimus said, noticing his friend. "Nothing." Hallucinating, I hope, he added, to himself.

"C'mon, lad. Let's go get some energon. It won't hurt to keep Magnus waiting just a little bit," Kup said, clapping his Prime on the shoulder.


	25. Chapter 25

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

0801. Prowl sat at his desk, readying himself for the day. Checking his schedule, organizing reports, answering emails, and his door opened. Jazz walked in without a word, sitting down on the corner of his friend's desk.

"Good morning," Prowl said, giving the special ops mech a glance.

"Mornin'," Jazz replied. "Why didn't you answer my comms last night? You're not even supposed to be here. You should be over at the city right now. You're supposed to be in charge there until Ultra Magnus gets back from Cybertron."

Prowl set down his data pad, giving Jazz his full attention. "Who decided this?"

"Magnus talked it over with me and Kup last night," Jazz said. "Optimus knows, and he approved it. He won't be back on active duty for a couple of days, and Ratchet won't let him have back even his administrative duties, so it falls to you. I've got the Ark."

"I see," Prowl said, standing. "Thank you for letting me know."

"Yeah," Jazz said, standing. "I'll keep an eye on Springer, make sure he behaves himself."

Prowl stiffened ever so slightly at the mention of the triple changer's name. Interesting, that, Jazz thought.

"I'll come see you tonight," he said. "I'll leave Hot Spot or Silverbolt in charge. It'll do 'em some good. We need to talk, Prowler."

With that, he left the second in command alone.

88888

Spending time walking around the city with Arcee wasn't a bad way to spend an afternoon. She'd traded patrol so she could spend part of the day with Hot Rod. He knew it wasn't just because Ultra Magnus was gone. She really did want to spend time with him. Now that the line between them was clear, the pressure was off. Hot Rod could just enjoy her company with out trying to impress her. He could be himself. That was the problem, he reflected. Maybe if he'd just been himself all along, she would be with him, or maybe in a trine with him and Springer.

Her choice made, and Springer still couldn't accept it. Now he was making an aft of himself, and butting in where he had no right. Hot Rod only hoped Springer didn't do anything stupid. And he didn't need a lecture like the one he received from his friend. He'd just have to bury his feelings for his Prime, move on and get over it.

"What are you thinking?" Arcee asked. "You've been quiet a long time. That's unusual. Everything OK?"

"Yeah," Hot Rod said.

"It is not," Arcee said, stopping, forcing him to look at him when she grabbed his chin. "I've always been able to tell when you're lying."

"Spring's just being a pain, that's all," Hot Rod said.

"About?" Arcee asked.

"Things that are none of his business," he said.

"Have your optics on someone new?" she said.

"You could say that," Hot Rod said.

"That's good," Arcee said. "Isn't it?"

"Not really, for a lot of reasons I'd rather not discuss," Hot Rod said.

"Rodi, you know you can always talk to me," Arcee said.  
"'Cee, can we drop it, please?"

"All right," she said, slipping her hand into his and pulling him along. "What happened to the devil-may-care Hot Rod I used to know?"

"He's taking a break," Hot Rod said. "If I want the promotion I'm gunning for, I can't mess up. Well, more than I already have."

"I can't imagine you not getting to work with Kup," Arcee said.

"I've been informed there are other more experienced mechs who are far more deserving than myself," Hot Rod said.

"Who told you that?" Arcee said.

"No one," Hot Rod said.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he said, wishing she would drop it.

One-word answers. Not good, Arcee thought.

"I'll tell Ratchet something is bothering you," she said.

"You wouldn't," Hot Rod said.

"Try me," Arcee said. "This isn't like you. I've never seen you so down."

"Springer was right for once, and let's leave it at that," Hot Rod said.

"It's obviously bothering you, so why don't you tell me?" she said.

He sighed. "You won't take no for an answer?"

"Hardly," she said, dragging him off the main walkway into a courtyard, shoving him toward a bench.

He took a seat, and Arcee sat down beside him.

"I have all afternoon," she said. "I can wait."

Hot Rod knew she was trying to help, but there was really no helping the matter. No matter Springer's state when he said the words, he was right about his feelings for Optimus—never happening. Springer had been worked up about something, probably more than Arcee, now that he thought about it. He'd have to dig into it later.

"I have some good news to pass on," Arcee said, hoping it would help. "Ultra Magnus said Optimus' opinion of you has changed. He's spoken very highly of you to Magnus lately. Even Magnus is impressed with your behavior."

"Not much trouble to get into when you're stuck in the med bay," Hot Rod said.

"I'm sure you have tried driving Ratchet up a wall," Arcee said.

"A little," he said. "He's easier to get along with when you're compliant. And he's actually not that bad."

"Well, I'm happy to hear you're living up to that potential of yours, if you've managed to get Optimus' attention," Arcee said. "Been spending a little time with him, too, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Hot Rod said.

"He does leave an impression," she said.

No answer. Was Optimus the problem?

"Is it Optimus?" Arcee asked. "The one you have your optics on?"

He nodded in affirmation.

"Rodi, I'm sorry," she said.

"Thanks," he said. "C'mon. I'm done moping. Let's go brighten up Ratchet's day."

88888

Jazz found Prowl in Optimus' office, working late. Not a surprise. Throwing himself down in a chair, he waited for his friend to acknowledge his presence, but Prowl kept working.

"I should tell Ratchet you're overextending yourself," Jazz said.

"If you do, I'll tell him it was you who glued the contents of his quarters to the ceiling," Prowl said, not looking up.

"And I'll let him know it was you who webbed everything in the med bay together with string," Jazz said.

Prowl looked up, setting down his data pad. "He would never believe you," he said.

"He would believe proof," Jazz said.

"There was no evidence connecting me to the incident," Prowl said. "I made sure of it."

"I can fabricate evidence," Jazz said.

"What is it you want to discuss? Prowl asked, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

Jazz took it for what it was—digging in for the coming fight.

"You know what I came to talk about," Jazz said. "Just scratching an itch with Springer, or what?"

"Proving a point," Prowl said.

"Come again?"

"You heard me," Prowl said. "I'm hoping to teach him a lesson. He can't just use others, so I'm. . ."

"Using him? Whatever, Prowler. He's just had you wound so tight for so long you don't know what to do now you've got him," Jazz said. "At least I was right—you are attracted to each other."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Prowl said.

"You spent the last two nights with him," Jazz said. "I can't remember the last time you spent one night with someone."

Prowl pursed his lips. Jazz grinned back. He could work around obstinate Prowl.

"Admit it—you like him," Jazz said. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have traded paint once, let alone twice. Besides, he complements you."

"You're out of your mind," Prowl said. "He's emotional, illogical. . ."

"Everything you're not," Jazz said.

"I think you need to see Ratchet," Prowl said. "Or possibly First Aid. I'm sure one of them would be glad to take a look at you."

"Have you even talked with Springer about what's going on?" Jazz asked.

"Nothing is going on, therefore we have nothing to discuss," Prowl said. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Jazz stood, giving his friend one last look before turning and walking out the door. To his surprise, Springer was coming down the corridor. Funny, he was supposed to be on monitor duty at the Ark.

"What're you doing here?" Jazz asked as he passed the other mech.

"Traded with Bumblebee," Springer said. "I'm taking his patrol with Gears tomorrow."

Gears was one of the most unpleasant minibots in the Autobot forces. He had a few close friends, but at best, the rest of the Autobots tolerated his presence. That Springer volunteered to take a patrol with him meant something was indeed going on with Prowl.

"See you tomorrow," Jazz said, continuing on. But he stopped when he heard a door slide shut. The door to Prime's office.


	26. Chapter 26

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

"You better go," Prowl said, disengaging himself from Springer. 0730. They were still in Optimus' office, and Springer had patrol back at the Ark at 0800. "You're going to be late."

"I'll make it," Springer said. "I'll fly."

"Just don't be late," Prowl said. "You're not even supposed to be here."

"I won't be late," Springer said, leaving.

Prowl stood, stiff from recharging on the floor. He could make it back to his assigned quarters, clean up, grab some energon and be back in no time. He exited the office, stepping into the corridor, and straight into Ratchet's path. Frag.

The medic stopped. "I hope you didn't spend all night working," Ratchet said.

"I forgot something," Prowl said. Funny, Ratchet noted, the other mech wasn't carrying anything.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge in surprise. It wasn't like Prowl to lie, and something told him the second in command was lying.

"Don't work too hard," Ratchet said, letting it slide. "I don't want you glitching and ending up in my med bay."

"I won't," Prowl said.

"That's not exactly a promise you can keep," Ratchet said. "I have enough stubborn mechs in my care right now without adding you to the list. You of all bots should have enough sense to not work yourself into stasis, but who am I kidding?"

The medic did have a valid point. His job as an officer was to help ease the burden of his commander, but he wasn't supposed to add to the workload of others, either.

"I'll try," Prowl said. "I was thinking of cutting out early tonight."

"See that you do," Ratchet said. "It's all right once in while, Prowl, in spite of everything going on right now. I was thinking of letting Optimus back on active duty day after tomorrow. He's doing well, and getting bored."

A bored Optimus was a dangerous thing, Prowl reflected.

"All you have to do is keep things here in line until Optimus is back on duty," Ratchet said. "I imagine that will happen before Ultra Magnus and the others return from Cybertron."

"Hopefully with good news about Elita-1," Prowl said.

"Indeed," Ratchet said.

88888

Hot Rod was bored. Stuck in the med bay, listening to Ratchet rant while First Aid stood patiently by, helping the other medic reattach Wheeljack's hand. All Hot Rod could put together was something about Wheeljack allowing the Dinobots to help in the lab. Perceptor was baby-sitting them at the moment, also a recipe for disaster. Maybe he could ask if he could go help? He got along with all five of them, and Swoop and Grimlock liked him. Well, the fact he could re-tell them their favorite Kup stories verbatim helped.

He was almost going to ask when Optimus Prime entered the med bay. Ratchet's head snapped up, and his rant subsided for the moment. "You're not hurt, you better have a good reason, and take Hot Rod with you. I know he's bored out of his mind, and could use some company," Ratchet said.

Hot Rod was off his berth and out the doors as fast as he could move, Optimus right behind him.

"I only came to see how badly Wheeljack was injured," Optimus said as they walked down the corridor.

"Blew off a hand, but I bet he's gonna lose more than that once Ratchet's done with him," Hot Rod said.

"I can understand his ire, considering he and Wheeljack are seeing each other, but. . ."

"He was letting the Dinobots help in the lab," Hot Rod said. "From what I gather."

"What?"

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "I guess they're missing Kup, and Wheeljack and Ratchet haven't had a lot of time for them lately."

He knew that because Ratchet mentioned it a lot.

"Maybe they need to make time to spend with them," Optimus said. "The Dinobots do regard them as parental figures. They still need much guidance."

"I know," Hot Rod said. "I bet they'd like spending time with Daniel. Have they met?"

"No," Optimus said. "I don't think Carly would allow Daniel to meet them."

"She doesn't have to know," Hot Rod said. "Next time Spike and Daniel are here, I'll take Danny to meet them, if it's OK with Spike. There are worse things for the kid to be doing besides hanging out with space dinosaurs."

"Daniel has been asking to see you again," Optimus said. "It couldn't hurt if he meets them if you or I are with him."

"Make sure Kup is around telling stories and Grimlock'll be as gentle as a kitten," Hot Rod said. "Not to mention if you threaten him within an inch of his life like you did me."

"He knows I can and will back up any threat I make against him," Optimus said, stopping. "Would you like to go to the rec room, and do you know how to play chess?"

"I would, and no, I can't play chess," Hot Rod said. "But I can play Go. Do you know how to play that game?"

"Spike taught me a long time ago," Optimus said. "And I would love to play."

88888

Springer later replaced Optimus, but Hot Rod could tell his friend's mind wasn't on the game. Springer was tense and distracted. Not at all like himself, and the look he shot their Prime when he saw him with his friend was not a pleasant one.

"Spring, is everything OK?" Hot Rod finally asked.

"I'm fine," Springer said.

"Whatever," Hot Rod said. "Whatever is bothering you is more than Arcee, isn't it? If you need to talk. . ."

"I don't need to talk," Springer said. "I busted my aft to finish patrol and trade another shift with somebody to spend time with you, and you grill me."

"Thanks for feeling obligated to spend time with me," Hot Rod said.

Springer stood, walking away without another word.

88888

The news Ultra Magnus and the others returned so soon was a surprise. Even more troublesome for Optimus Prime was when Ultra Magnus pulled him aside, wanting to speak privately. It set off warning bells in the Autobot leader's head, and Ultra Magnus' demeanor didn't help. The usually stoic Magnus was even more solemn than usual.

Ultra Magnus handed him a data pad.

"What is this?" Optimus asked.

"I don't know what's on it," Magnus said. "Elita-1 told me it was for you."

"You found her then?"

"She's fine, back with her Autobots," Ultra Magnus said. "She was captured by some of Shockwave's troops, and broke out with the assistance of a bounty hunter named Devcon. Elita said that was all I needed to know. Ironhide stayed behind to spend time with Chromia. He wouldn't take no for an answer. Call me if you need me."

Magnus patted him on the shoulder, leaving him alone. Optimus read the short message on the pad. She loved him, and always would, but it was over. She was letting him go. They were done. She was letting him know she had already moved on. He dropped the data pad, smashing his hand into the wall.

88888

Hot Rod felt someone shaking him out of recharge. The med bay lights were dim, and he wasn't sure what was going on, and why was Ratchet pulling him off his berth?

"You're coming with me," the medic said. "Wheeljack isn't going anywhere, and Blurr isn't in any shape to transform with that shoulder wound. . .I'm not making any sense am I? Just follow me."

Hot Rod followed the medic out of the med bay, and down the corridor. They were headed toward the living quarters, stopping in front of a door down the officer's corridor. Optimus' quarters. Ratchet entered his command override, walking in, hitting the lights. Optimus was face down on the floor, surrounded by empty high grade containers.

"Help me, will you?" Ratchet said, hefting one of his Prime's arms over his shoulder.

"We should call Magnus," Hot Rod said.

"And let him see us scraping Prime off the floor?"

"I'm helping you scrape him off the floor," Ratchet said. "Isn't that bad?'

"I think I can trust you with this," Ratchet said. "Prowl's off where I can't get a hold of him, Jazz is busy, so we're it."

"Why do you think you can trust me?" Hot Rod asked.

"It's simple—I think you care for him," Ratchet said. "Don't you? I can see it in your optics when you're together. Good thing, too, considering."

"What do you mean?" Hot Rod said.

"I think you're smart enough to know not many things in this world could reduce this mech to this level," Ratchet said.

"Obviously," Hot Rod said.

"Elita-1 left him," Ratchet said as they manhandled their leader onto his berth. "Do what you will with that piece of information."


	27. Chapter 27

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus Prime was going to kill the mech waking him from a much-needed recharge. He couldn't remember how he got to his berth, but it didn't matter. His head was aching. He'd just had his spark ripped out, and was feeling murderous from that and his hangover. Answering his pinging comm, he hoped it was nothing, and he could go back to sleep.

:You better be awake because you have visitors headed your way: Ratchet said.

:I'm in no mood for company, and you should respect that: Optimus said.

:You can't hide, and I know if I leave you alone, you'll just mope more and get overcharged again, and you better not have inflicted any damage on yourself Am I clear?:

Slag. He had, when he punched the wall the night before, but Ratchet didn't have to know. Maybe he could sneak in and see First Aid later?

:Crystal clear: Optimus replied.

:Good.:

Then his door chime was ringing, and he rolled off his berth, answering. The door slid open, and he was greeted by the sight of Hot Rod with Daniel perched on his shoulder.

"Spike said it was OK for Daniel to meet the Dinobots if you're with us," Hot Rod said. "Danny's really excited about getting to see them, aren't you, kiddo?"

"Yeah," Daniel said. "I can't wait."

"Did Ratchet have anything to do with this?" Optimus asked.

"Not as far as I know," Hot Rod said. "Spike dropped by the med bay with the kid because he was asking to see me, and I said I'd watch him while his dad was busy with Magnus. Ratchet did overhear me asking if it was all right if I took Danny to see Grimlock, but that's about it."

Hot Rod left out the part about his discussion with Ratchet only minutes before, detailing the part of his conversation with Optimus the day before about Danny and the Dinobots. Ratchet thought it was a good idea to get Optimus out of his quarters and doing something productive, even if it was babysitting. And he'd bribed the kid to keep him quiet, although it really wasn't necessary. Hot Rod hoped it was the beginning of a long, beautiful friendship between them.

Optimus frowned, but relented, seeing the hopeful look on Daniel's face, and the smirk on Hot Rod's. The damn mech was exasperating.

"All right. Let's go," he said.

88888

With Magnus back, and resuming his duties as city commander, Prowl was technically off the hook. A technicality he was willing to accept in order to grab a little extra recharge before heading back to the Ark. And he was tangled with Springer, in the triple changer's berth.

:Prowl, where are you? We need to talk:

It was Jazz.

:What is it?:

:Ultra Magnus wants to talk to both of us. I'm in his office, and we're both waiting on you:

Prowl ignored the jab from his friend, untangling himself from Springer. The other mech woke.

"What's up?"  
"I have to go meet with Jazz and Ultra Magnus," Prowl said. "Aren't you on duty this morning?"

"Traded, again," Springer said. "Doing patrol with Bumblebee tonight."

"It was good of him to trade," Prowl said.

"Well, he's not stupid," Springer said, hoping Prowl would take the hint. They needed to talk. Sort a few things out, if there was anything that needed sorting. Like feelings.

"If you're insinuating he knows about us. . ."

"Like I said, Bumblebee isn't stupid," Springer said.

"In that case, we probably need to have a discussion as to where this. . .relationship is going," Prowl said.

"Or even if it's a relationship at all," Springer added.

"Indeed," Prowl said, rolling off the berth, and leaving Springer alone.


	28. Chapter 28

No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ultra Magnus had a headache. He was angry, exhausted, and wanted the next few minutes over. It was making him late for his meeting with Spike, and further postponing when he could go back to his quarters, see Arcee and recharge. His visit with Ratchet that morning confirmed his suspicions, and he didn't know what to do. Elita-1 had left Optimus, and Optimus was potentially a mess. He didn't know that for a fact, but he wanted to go see his friend, but Ratchet said he was busy, something about Optimus introducing Daniel Witwicky to the Dinobots? Instead, he was half-listening to Jazz talk about some concert while they waited for Prowl to show.

Jazz also noted Prowl's absence. Being late was uncharacteristic for the second in command, and Jazz wondered if it had anything to do with Springer. At least the two were finally fragging, and maybe they'd get each other out of their systems, or come to their senses and start something serious. Relationship problems all around. He could start charging a fee for consultations if he got involved. And now, Ultra Magnus was tapping his fingers on the table, no doubt wanting to go see a certain femme.

"Magnus, just tell me what you have to say, and I'll pass it along to Prowl," Jazz said. "Go find Arcee and get some rest."

The other mech started to protest, but Jazz didn't let him speak.

"Seriously," he said. "My mech, just go. I'll deal with Prowler."

"You've read the message I passed on?" Magnus said.

"Like I said, I'll deal with Prowler and Optimus if I have to," Jazz said.

"Thank you," Magnus said, leaving Jazz alone.

The saboteur waited for Prowl to appear after Magnus left, and he showed a half-hour late.

"I hope Springer's worth it," Jazz said, skipping a greeting, deciding instead to test his best friend's temper.

Prowl ignored the comment, optics narrowing slightly and door wings stiffening at the comment. Jazz had hit a nerve. Goodie.

"What's so important?" Prowl asked, arms crossed.

Great. Defensive Prowler. The morning was getting better and better.

"Magnus had something he thought was important enough to pass on to us," Jazz said.

"I'm well aware of that fact," Prowl said. "Hence this meeting, so what's going on?"  
"Elita-1 is safe, but she's done with Optimus. She's been seeing someone else," Jazz said.

"What?" Prowl said, sitting down.

"A bounty hunter-Devcon," Jazz said.

"But. . ."

"Yeah," Jazz said.

"Optimus may very well be emotionally compromised," Prowl said.

"No kidding, Prowler. Kind of important, don't you think?" Jazz said.

"Yes," Prowl said.

"So why are you shirking duty to frag somebody I didn't think you could stand?" Jazz asked.

"I'm not shirking my duty," Prowl said.

"For you, showing up late is," Jazz said.

"I hope you're not insinuating my preoccupation with a subordinate is inhibiting my ability to carry out my duties," Prowl said.

"Ain't it?" Jazz said. "Is that all it is—a preoccupation?"

"I'm not using Springer," Prowl said.

"You sure you ain't being used?" Jazz said.

Prowl frowned.

"I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into, Prowler," Jazz said. "Maybe you need to take a step back and think about where things are going with Springer."

"We're just fragging," Prowl said.

"Since when do you 'just frag' anybody?" Jazz said.

"I'm willing to make an exception in Springer's case," Prowl said. "You've heard the rumors how fickle he supposedly is."

"Don't use that as an excuse," Jazz said. "Do you care for him?"

Prowl's frown turned into a glare. "I have to go," he said.

88888

Grimlock lay curled on the floor, Daniel perched on his head, listening, as Hot Rod told a story about an adventure he'd had with Springer when they were still younglings. The other Dinobots sat rapt, engulfed in Hot Rod's tale while Optimus Prime considered the veracity of the story. Hot Rod had obviously learned the art of storytelling from Kup. Or maybe he came by it naturally, considering his ability to talk his way out of punishment, according to Ultra Magnus, Red Alert and Prowl. Hot Rod's creativity needed to be channeled into something useful instead of being curbed, as Ultra Magnus kept mentioning. Optimus considered leaving it to Kup to deal with, but possibly the young mech could use some mentoring, and as the Autobot leader, he'd do it. It would give him a legitimate excuse to spend time with Hot Rod, and hopefully keep him out of trouble.

Separating Hot Rod from Springer did have the benefit of keeping the two out of mischief, Optimus hoped, but he hadn't heard a report about Springer's progress. Well, with Hot Rod off active duty and stuck in the med bay and left to Ratchet's care, he didn't have many opportunities for causing trouble, although sometimes, Hot Rod and Springer caused it just by showing up. That was something they could throw at the Decepticons. That thought brightened Optimus' day. Prowl called their behavior "fractious," but though Optimus wouldn't admit it, he did enjoy hearing about some of the pair's antics.

And Hot Rod was getting along well with the Dinbots and Daniel. A good thing, or possibly a sign of his immaturity. Optimus was willing to find out which, if given a chance. But it could wait.


End file.
